


Unique

by BuddyWaterfalls



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Crush at First Sight, Cute, Embarrassment, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Geniuses, Grief/Mourning, Heartwarming, Love Confessions, New York City, Prodigies, Puberty, Romance, Sarcasm, Soulmates, True Love, WWE - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 47,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyWaterfalls/pseuds/BuddyWaterfalls
Summary: NEW CHAPTERS EVERY MONDAY AND WENDNESDAY! (Based on the movies, set in 2001) A boy born to privilege and gifted with intelligence in New York comes to London to go to Hogwarts, meeting a girl whose natural intelligence matches his own in Hermione. Soon, they start to fall for one another.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Original Male Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Original Male Character(s), Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	1. New York to Hogwarts

My name is Samuel Hedrich and I am a transfer from the Awfelts School of Beginner’s Magic in the United States. It’s very similar to Hogwarts but it is more… dated? The whole place creaks and wallpaper peels. Students should be required to take tetanus shots before entering. The division system also led to a bit of a war among students and faculty. I thrived in that loathsome environment for three years, I led the Owls to crush everyone in our path and put an end to the childish war. I am the smartest person alive for a reason. When I was eight, I had an IQ of 145, and in four years I have grown to an IQ of 300. I used that to outsmart everyone and secure my place in Awfelts’ history. Having nothing left to learn, I just lazed through class until I finally got the challenge I’d been waiting for, Hogwarts. 

Don’t get the wrong idea, I don’t want to take over, I want an intellectual challenge. At Awfelts everything is about safety, I took over with one attack spell and one defense spell, at Hogwarts, I’ll hopefully learn a little bit more. My Dad, Colson Hedrich drives me to the pier overlooking the ocean and flicks the switch to make the car fly. Soon, we are in the air, I look back at my home with a touch of newfound clarity. “Are you excited, son?” Dad asks, “2001. It’s been twenty years since I attended Hogwarts? Damn.” He beams at me, “I’m excited for you, so is your mother. She’s just too weak to get up right now.”

“I know.” I whisper, when I was five, my mother got diagnosed with leukemia and refused magical interference, wanting to beat it herself, and she did, for a while. It has come back. I take a deep breath, warding away the sadness before smiling, “At this pace we won’t get to London for a day.”

“Three, actually.” Dad smiles, “But luckily for us, I’m a genius.” He pulls out a lighter, “I call this the Cash Loop.”

“Why?”

“Your grandmother loved Johnny Cash. This works a lot like that powder, but it erases the need of a fireplace and doesn’t sell information to the council.” He smiles, “It’s not even in the testing phase yet!” _Not in the-_

“Why are you happy about that? Are you trying to kill us?!” I exclaim. Why do I have to have a batshit insane Dad? 

“London!” Dad shouts at the lighter before throwing it hard out of the window. A ring of fire appears in front of us and Dad floors it straight through, I yell protests the entire way that fall on deaf ears. Suddenly we’re in London traffic as Dad turns flight mode off and looks at me with a shit-eating grin. “You scream like your mother.” He teases, “I’m the single greatest inventor on Earth, Sammy, at this point you’ll never trust my inventions.”

“Dad, I’m not a guinea pig.” I murmur, shaking from the mix of fear and adrenaline.

“Nonsense! You still have your ticket, right?”

I fish around in my pocket for a moment before finding a slip of paper “Yes.” I say wearily, waving it

“Good. Let’s see… you brought Shakespeare, your cauldron, the robes are the same and your wand. We’ll get you the rest at Diagon Alley.” Shakespeare mews behind him. She was only a couple months old when we found her, although we didn’t know it was a her. Her left eye had a bad infection and she was tangled in our fence. When we got her to the vet, the doctor said that if she would’ve made it a day later, she would’ve died. The surgery was pricey, but afterwards, we kept her. She was very tall and proud which is how she got the name. It wasn’t until Mom pointed it out that we knew she was a girl. A little late, unsurprisingly. Two of the smartest men in the world are complete buffoons.

“I still don’t feel good about leaving my broom.” I admit. 

“School policy.” Dad shrugs. “You’ll be fine.” 

“I know that. I’m me.”

“Exactly.” Dad grins, before stepping out of the car and smelling the air. “I love the smell of London. Smells like baked goods and old people.” _He’s not wrong._

“I miss New York already.” I groan, “And why are we parked outside of a pub?”

“Look at the name.”

“The Leaky Cauldron?”

“That’s the secret entrance. Follow me.” Dad leads me into the pub and meets the bartender.

“Mr. Hedrich! Long time no see.” 

“Hey Tom, I’m taking Samuel to Diagon Alley.”

“Really? Is he going to Hogwarts? It’s much more suitable for a young wizard than those American schools.” I take offense to that.

“Well it isn’t my choice. He decided to go here. I take it that you’ve heard about his academic record?” 

“Who hasn’t? He’s the boy who solved Clayborne’s Cypher.” That’s all anyone ever thinks of now, God it pisses me off.

“It wasn’t that hard. All you needed to do was look at his previous work and connect patterns.” I protest.

“Uh huh. Well, go right on through, Mr. Hedrich. Have a good day and congrats on your son’s acceptance.” 

Dad and I son bow and move towards the back exit towards a brick wall. After Dad taps it in a pattern, it opens and we shuffle inside. “Nice day, huh? This is rare for London. I’m used to an overcast when I visit. It’s like it knew you were coming.” He smiles at me. “You need those phials and brass scales, I’ll get those books. Head to Magical Menagerie they should have everything you need there. Meet me outside of it.” He hands me a handful of gold. “Say hi to Todd for me. Forewarning, he’s a little grumpy so don’t bother him too much.”

“Sure thing, Dad.” I say, taking the coins and pocketing them before making my way into the store and looking around.

“What are you looking for?” The man at the counter grunts..

“Could I have brass scales and phials, sir?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute."

“Oh, and Todd?” 

“Yes?” He asks, agitated.

“Colson Hedrich says hi.”

Todd’s eyes soften. “You know him?”

“I’m his son.”

He quickly regains his tough composure and retains his scowl, but this time, by the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, I can tell it’s an act. “He was a nuisance around my shop for years. Always made elaborate schemes to prank me. Almost killed me once.” He grabs the two items, “You take after him, I can tell.” Then he hands me the items and rings him up, “That’ll be twelve galleons.” I count out the coins before handing them to the old man. “That’s it. Give this to your dad, will you?” He hands me a box and turns away.

“Thanks Todd. Have a good day.” Todd grunts in response.

I leave the store to find Dad waiting outside, a stack of books in a cart. “How’s the old man doing?”

“Pretty good actually. He told me to give you this.” I say, handing him the box. 

“Aw, his heart’s warmed over.” Dad chuckles, handing me the cart and opening the box. A bubble floats out of it. “Odd.”

“Incendio!” The bubble says before popping. Then Dad’s jacket starts smoldering.

“Dad, your jacket-”

“What about my jacket?” He asks, building up a sweat. I decide to let him find out for himself. “It usually isn’t this hot in London. Especially in fall.” The flame spreads up his arm and I grimace. “Do you smell chicken?” Then Dad looks down at his arm. “Gah! I’m on fire!” He screams, running off. “Wait there, Sammy! I’ll be back.”

“He’s a character isn’t he?” A female voice asks beside me, Shocking me a bit before I turn to face her and see that it’s a girl my age. I feel my cheeks heat up at this discovery and act cool, giving her a greeting smile. “I’m Hermione.” She says.

“Oh, uh, hi. I’m Samuel. Call me Sam.”

“You’re not from around here are you?”

“No, I’m from New York.”

“Wait, are you Samuel Hedrich?” _Shit. Of course she knows me._

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry for talking about-”

“No, don’t worry about that. I don’t get angry over stuff like that. Nor does he.” I assure before smiling at her, “Hermione. That’s a nice name.” She blushes and brushes her hair out of her face, causing mine to heat up as well. _Shit. I said that out loud._

“Thanks. Is it true that you have an IQ of 300?” _Straight to the point, huh?_

“Unfortunately.” 

“Unfortunately?”

“That’s how everyone knows me.” I shrug, “Unfortunate.” Dad stumbles back with a destroyed jacket and a still-smoldering shirt, “Hey Dad. You look a little tight.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mutters, then he spots Hermione and smirks a bit, “Oh, who’s this?”

“My name is Hermione Granger.” the girl says, extending a hand.

“I’m Colson Hedrich.” Dad says, putting on a touch of charm before shaking it. “Where are your parents?” 

“They’re somewhere around here. I lost sight of them.” 

“Do you have anything of theirs?” Dad questions, Hermione hands him a hairclip. “ _Avenseguim_.” He whispers. The hair clip lifts into the air, “Now we’ve got to follow it.” So we do, bumping our way through crowds as it leads us to the help center, where a couple is yelling at the lady about their daughter. Muggles, by the looks of them. “I have a delivery for Mr. and Mrs. Granger.” Dad calls. The couple turns quickly and sees their daughter before rushing towards her. “She was with my boy by the ice cream shop.”

“Thank you for bringing her back.” Her father says, reaching for his wallet, Dad grabs his arm.

“I don’t need your money, sir.” He assures, with a charming smile on his face, then, “You have a pretty bright girl there. You can see it in her eyes. Very impressed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mr. Granger says, “Sorry for asking, but do you know how to find the train to Hogwarts?”

“Are you parked at the pub?” Dad asks.

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m in the red ford. Follow me.” We all leave together.


	2. Meeting the Gang

“I’m gonna miss you, son.” Dad smiles, “You’re gonna kick ass, I know it. Remember to write me.”

“How could I forget?” 

“Well the smartest person on the planet is gonna be preoccupied. Maybe by a girlfriend?” He tilts his head indiscreetly at Hermione, earning a groan and a glare from me. I mean, sure she's kinda cute, but I wouldn’t date her or anything. “I don’t know, I see chemistry.” He hugs me one more time, this time pulling back with tears in his eyes. “See you in the Summer, yeah? And don’t hesitate to call me.”

“I won’t, Dad.” I assure, grabbing my cart and sighing as I work up my nerve. “Tell Mom I love her too.”

“I will.” With this, I walk through the wall and stand in front of the train. I grab Shakespeare and my uniform before I push my cart to the luggage section and carry my clothes and Shakespeare on board. After walking for a bit, I find a boothe with a girl and a distraught boy. The girl is Hermione of course and I sit next to her, putting my stuff on the empty seat in front of me. _This is better than the subway._ Hermione gives me a quick smile of acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the boy.

“He was right here, where’d he go?” The boy almost squeaks. 

“What’d you lose?” I ask.

“My toad.”

I sigh, “Hermione, would you like to have a look with me?” She nods. “Keep an eye on Shakespeare, make sure she stays in the cage.” The boy who lost his frog nods and we get up as the train lurches forward, knocking us back into our seats, my head hits the wall with a thud and I imagine myself as a Looney Tunes character for a second, stars swirling around my head. I give Hermione a quick glance and she doesn’t look like she took the fall well either.. After a minute I get up once more and rub the back of my head, before shaking it out and leaving the boothe “ _Gravitori_!” I growl, casting a spell that lets me walk normally when that would otherwise be impossible before casting it on Hermione as well and holstering my. “That should be easier.”

“I’ve never seen a wand like that.” The girl comments.

I feel my cheeks heat up, “I found it, it was in a shop, some kid broke it and when I saw it, it cried out to me. I fixed it and it chose me. It’s a 13 inch ashwood wand with a unicorn hair core. Now it’s mine.” I smile a bit. “But it’s not about the wand. It’s about the person holding it.” After finalizing the story, I poke my head into a boothe. “Have any of you seen a toad?” They all give me odd looks. “I’ll take that as a no.” Then I walk away from the doorway. 

“You don’t seem too worried.” She notes.

“Dad put a luck charm on me today.”

“Has it worked?”

“We’ll see.” I say smiling, why does that feel like it has two meanings? “What does your dad do?” I ask, changing the subject. ( **_A/N: Get your mind out of the gutter._ **)

“My mum and dad are both dentists. They own a business together.”

“That’s nice. I assume they’re muggles?”

“Yes?”

“How did you learn of your powers?”

“One day I locked my dad in a room and the firefighters had to get him out, then I started lighting candles. Mum thought the house was haunted so we moved and it continued to happen.” She checks into another boothe, comes back out and shrugs, as she continues to talk, I scan the room with my eyes. “They figured out I was a witch when Hogwarts sent the invitation.”

“Even though that’s the proper word, I hate it.” I mutter. She looks at me. _Shit. I really need to shut my mouth. Just roll with it._

“Witch?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“ I mean, aren’t witches supposed to be ugly? In America if you’re not green and have a wart, you’re not a witch. But then again the witch of the east was good… it’s the connotation I guess.”

Hermione smiles, “You don’t think I’m ugly, huh?”

“No.” I say, on the verge of laughing, “You’re not green and I don’t see a wart.” I check inside another boothe, still nothing. “But maybe I’m not the best guy to ask. I have an awful taste of… well, just about everything except people..”

Hermione looks under a table. “I don’t think we’re gonna find it.” 

“That looks to be the case.”

“Let’s check in here.” She says, “Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one.” 

A boy with red hair and a similar wand to mine shrugs, “No.”

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see then.”

The ginger clears his throat and I pop in behind Hermione looking at the boy over her shoulder. “Sunshine daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!” He zaps the rat and the box flies off of its head. Otherwise nothing happens. The boy shrugs at the kid he’s sharing the boothe with, his glasses are taped together on the bridge and the frames are banged up. The kid shrugs back.

“Are you sure that's a real spell?” Hermione asks, red head nods, “Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me.” She pulls out her wand and walks into the boothe. _So much for the toad._ She sits across from Glasses. “For example… _oculus reparo._ ” The boy's glasses are repaired and he takes them off, amazed. It is a simple spell, but she’s right, it’s executed perfectly, even without schooling. _She’s talented._ She catches my gaze, but I hold eye contact and she smirks. “That's better, isn't it?” She asks, turning back to the boy, before realizing something, “Holy Cricket, you're Harry Potter.” _Harry Potter?! Shit I’m becoming just like everyone else._ “I'm Hermione Granger.” Then she turns to the redhead, “And you are...?”

“I’m Ron Weasly.” He says with a full mouth.

Me and Hermione both crinkle our noses. “Charming.” I grunt. Attention shifts to me, “I’m Sam. Sam Hedrich.” I bow my head. “I imagined you’d be taller.” I refer to Harry before shrugging. This gets Hermione to let out an amused scoff. 

“Well you lot better change into your robes, I suspect we’ll be there shortly.” She gets up and walks away.

Ron looks after her with confusion painted across his face. “You heard the lady. Also you’ve got a little dirt on your nose.” Ron scratches it, embarrassed. “I look forward to your growth, Glasses.” With that, I leave for the boothe and then the bathroom and put on the uniform and robe. I look like a fuckboy, luckily for me, I’m anything but. I take a deep breath as I tuck my tie in. If my boys in York saw me in this getup, they’d laugh me out of the city. “Well, Sammy, it’s showtime.” I grunt, walking out of the bathroom and moving towards my boothe, bumping into a platinum blonde kid on my way out. “Watch it, kid, I’m walking here!” I say, putting my accent on blast and walking over him. He gets up and glares at me before sighing and going into the bathroom. I slide in beside Hermione and the kid across from her has his head down, Shakespeare stands proudly on his back. “Shakespeare. Cage.” I command. The cat yawns in response. “Listen, girl, don’t test me. Cage.” She doesn’t comply and I groan before grabbing her right before she runs away. “You can be out at the school.” I grunt. Putting her in the cage and locking it, then I grab my wand. “ _Colloportus._ ” The cage door clicks as I flag down a worker. “Hey, could you put this with my luggage? It’s number 212.” 

“Of course.” She says after I hand her two gold coins, walking towards the luggage cart. 

“Sorry about that, she gets rowdy.” I mutter.

“You named a girl Shakespeare?” Hermione asks, humorously.

“It’s a long story.” I groan. She giggles a bit as I tell her how she got her name. 

“She was a stray?” I nod. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?” I shrug. “I suppose we all have secrets.” She decides. After a while of small talk, apparently her favorite scent is strawberries, “What’s next for you? After Hogwarts.”

“That’s a tough question. I think I’m gonna be an author.”

“You?” She asks, “I thought you’d want to be an inventor.” 

“I think the world has seen enough of Hedrich corp. I don’t want to follow in my Dad’s footsteps, I’m gonna create my own.” I sigh and shrug, “What about you?”

Hermione smiles, “I’d like to write, sure. But I also want to be the best witch in the world.”

“Maybe we could write a book together.” I suggest, more so as a joke. _But not entirely._ Before snickering a bit. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah.” She shrugs, “What’s the worst that could happen?” 

I smile at this and she smiles back. I quickly cancel the _Gravitori_ spell and lean into the seat. “You’re pretty cool, Granger.” She blushes and I rest my eyes, yawning. “Wake me when we’re there, yeah?”

“Okay.”


	3. A Hat That Speaks

I wake up to an elbow in my ribcage and see Hermione standing up. “We’re here.” She says, I nod and stretch before getting up. “How’d you sleep?” She asks. 

“Pretty good.” I reply, then I see a wet spot on her shoulder and my face heats up. “Sorry about the robe.”

Hermione shakes her head and opens her mouth to say something when, “Right then, first years! This way, please! Come on, now, don't be shy! Come on now, hurry up!” I sigh and leave the train, Neville and Hermione not far behind. We stand Behind Harry and Ron. “Hello Harry.” The giant greets, shining the light of his wand on the young wizard. 

“Hey Hagrid.” Harry says, cheerilly.

“Right then. Follow me! This way to the boats!” 

“Wanna share a boat?” I ask Hemione. She nods. We sit in front and Neville sits behind us with a few others, still upset about the toad. “I’m sure it’s fine.” I assure him. “In fact, I know it is.” Neville smiles a bit as me and Hermione row.

“Are you two dating?” He asks. The other three boat members start giggling.

“No.” I say, as my entire face heats up, so I hide it in the darkness. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“You two have been sticking together all day. I just thought-” 

“We’re friends, okay?” Hermione snaps over her shoulder. I think I detect the slightest hint of fluster but… _It’s probably just your imagination, Sammy._ I didn’t know I was her friend, though. 

“Whatever you say, you’d still make a cute couple.” Neville sighs. I wanna take this oar out of the water and smack him with it, but I decide against it as I bow my head and continue rowing, catching a glimpse at Hermione and making eye contact before looking away. _This is gonna be a long year._

When the boat ride is over, we shuffle up several flights of stairs until I’m woozy. Hermione gives me a questioning look and I smile weakly. “Just the stairs.” She rolls her eyes but smiles a bit as we come upon an old lady. We are at the front, next to Potter and Ron.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup.” 

I see a toad at the lady’s feet and elbow Neville who looks at me and then the toad. “Trevor!” He shouts, grabbing the frog, then he looks up and swallows dryly. “Sorry.” He says, walking back over to us.

“The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily.” Then she leaves. 

The moment she does, a familiar looking platinum blonde speaks up. “So it’s true then? What they were saying on the train? Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.” This causes whispering among the student body, “This is Crabbe and Goyle, and I'm Malfoy… Draco Malfoy.” I look him up and down and he glances at me, he’s about to say something when Ron starts snickering, “Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley. We’ll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. Don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” He extends his hand.

“I remember you. You’re the kid I knocked on his ass on the train.” I say, then almost burst out laughing. “You can’t stand after a little bump and now you want to recruit the kid who beat Old V?” That gets me, I start to laugh and so does everyone else, save for Draco and his goons. 

“Enough!” Draco shouts, “So Potter, what will it be?” 

Harry, still smiling, shakes his head, “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are myself, thanks.”

As Draco glares at Harry, the old lady shows up behind him and taps him on the shoulder twice with a sheet of paper. Malfoy glares one last time before retreating. “We are ready for you now.” The lady declares. We follow her into a beautiful banquet hall. I look up at the ceiling, and feel a sort of enchanted feeling of awe wash over me. It’s as if there isn’t a ceiling at all.

Hermione nudges me and I look at her, she’s smiling. “It's not real.” I give her a questioning look, “The ceiling. It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.”

“Well now I just feel ripped off.” I mutter before chuckling. “Now I have a personal navigator, lucky me.” She nudges me again, a little harder this time and I almost lose balance. It’s worth it though.

The old lady steps on a little stage and points at the surrounding area. “Alright, will you wait along here, please?” We oblige. “Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.”

An even older man stands from a table behind her. “I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce. The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you.” We all look at the man with his cat with red eyes. I shiver a little. 

The old lady starts once more, “When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses. Hermione Granger.” The American in me prompts me to clap, but I quickly stop knowing that no one is doing the same.

“Man, our countries are more different than I thought.” I mutter. She gives me a quick smile as if to thank me and walks forward, hyping herself up.

“Mental, that one, I’m telling you.” Ron says.

“I don’t think so. She’s nervous.” I grunt, shaking my head. 

Then the hat starts talking and my jaw drops, “Ah, right then...hmm...right. Okay...Gryffindor!!” The Gryffindor crowd cheers. And she celebrates. I smile at this and she punches me on the shoulder as she runs off to join her group. Next is Draco who doesn’t even get the hat put on his head before it calls him out as a Slytherin. After a few more people, my name is finally called and I sit on the stool. “Another Hedrich, hmm? I remember your father, just like him, you’re… difficult. Maybe even more so. You could be in any of the houses. You are as cunning as a Slytherin, as loyal as a Hufflepuff, as resilient as a Gryffindor and as knowledge-hungry as a Ravenclaw…” 

“The suspense is killing me.” I mutter sarcastically.

“You will be in… Gryffindor.” The hat decides. The table cheers and I take two lazy bows like a smartass before walking towards it, slapping Ron and Harry on their shoulders and sitting down beside Hermione. Crazy how it’s worked out like this I take a glance at Dumbledore who gives me a wink and a smile. _Maybe this place won’t be as bad as I presumed._

After everyone is done, a dinging is heard, the instantly recognizable sound of a spoon on glass is heard and everyone quiets down as the old lady speaks up. “Your attention, please.”

Dumbledore stands, “Let the feast begin!” He calls. And food instantly appears right in front of me, catching me a little off guard. I have a quick look around and sigh, grabbing a chicken leg, sinking my teeth in, it’s actually pretty good for the lack of seasoning. I grab some corn, some ham and Hermione gets me potatoes as I watch Ron dual wield chicken legs and devour them in seconds with carnivorous chomps. My jaw drops as Hermione hands me back my plate and her eyes widen too at Ron’s grease-slick face as he savagely throws the bones onto the plate and reaches for more helpless chicken legs, then a head pops out of the plate.

“Hello!” It cheers, “How are you? Welcome to Gryffindor!”

Suddenly there’s a lot of commotion as ghosts fill the room. Someone asks the chicken-ghost, “Hello, Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer?”

“Dismal. Once again, my request to join the headless hunt has been denied.” He grumbles sourly.

“Wait, I know you.” Ron says, “You’re Nearly Headless Nick!”

“I prefer Sir Nicholas if you don’t mind.”

Hermione pipes up, “Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?”

“Like this.” Nicholas says, pulling his head aside to show that it’s mostly severed from his neck, being held on by a flap of skin, prompting gagging noises from Ron and Hermione. Then Sir Nicholas puts his head back and saunters away.

“Well, that was disgusting.” Hermione says.

“I thought it was kinda cool.” I shrug, taking a bite of the potatoes.

She frowns at me and sighs. “You would.” She sighs, “Boys.” 

Ron frowns, “I didn’t fancy that at all.” he comments.

Harry shakes his head, “What about you, Glasses?” I call out.

“Huh?” Harry asks, looking at me.

“What’d you think about the guy with the head?”

“I don’t know, he seemed cool.” I facepalm and sigh.

“Forget about it.” I sigh. Soon the meal is finished and we’re led towards our dorms. I don’t pay attention to the leader… Percy? Maybe. I just don’t care enough to remember. Right now as always, a million things are racing through my mind at once. Several equations, a plan for world hunger, but, surprisingly, my book with Hermione is front and center. What it’d look like, what it’d be composed of, who it will be written for. Nothing comes to mind and I steal a glance at the brunette at my side, she’s smart. I can tell. The easiest thing for a genius to see is another genius. She meets my gaze and nudges me as if to tell me to look forward. There’s a portrait of a fat lady on the wall. 

“Password?”

“ _Caput Draconis._ ” The guide says, the fat woman nods before the painting opens, revealing a hole in the wall. Follow me, everyone. “Keep up, quickly, come on.” We follow him into a lovely living area. “Gather 'round here.” He commands, I’ve grown tired of his bossiness but comply no less, “Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room. Boys' dormitories, upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You'll find that your belongings have already been brought up.” We shuffle upwards and find our rooms. I spot Shakespeare curled into a ball, I’m sharing a dorm with Ron, Harry and Neville.

“You can have the one with Shakespeare on it.” Neville says, patting me on the back. 

“Thank you.” I say, then look at Shakespeare. “How did you get out?” I hiss. She mews and starts bathing herself. I get out her stuff, shoving the bags of litter and cat food in the closet before setting out her bowls and litter box, then I rush to fill them all, I throw two toys on the ground and use the closet to change into pajamas before moving back into the common room, notebook and pen in hand. I sit on the couch and start scribbling away. 

_Dear Mom and Dad._

_I made it safe, don’t worry. Everything is fine, may I just say that Shakespeare is either magical or insane because I locked the cage with a spell and she still got out! I’ve also made some new friends, Dad knows Hermione, but there are three other kids too, Ron Weasley, Neville and Harry Potter. Anyway, I hope you feel better, Mom. Make sure to write me as often as possible, okay? Make Dad do it if you can’t. I already miss you._

_Love,_

_Samuel_

As I fold the letter over and tuck it in the envelope, Shakespeare hops onto my lap. I pet her while I seal it and scribble the last of the required info down, stamp it and shove it into my pocket. She looks behind me and suddenly jumps off of my lap as a sharp grunt gives me a good jump, and I hear a high-pitched giggle erupt behind me, unsurprised to find the witch I’ve been following around all day. 

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” She continues to laugh, it’s a bubbly laugh that rings around the room with a merry grace. I smile and shake my head. “So what are you doing?”

“I just wrote my parents a letter telling them I made it.” I get up and put it in the mail slot quickly.

She moves to sit next to me. “So are both of your parents wizards?”

“Yes.” I say, simply.

“I didn’t meet your mum. What’s she like?” 

“Smart, calm, reassuring, accepting, nurturing.” I grunt, giving her a look to get off the topic. She nods, sitting next to me and Shakespeare sits between us.

“So, you and your dad are pretty close?”

I smile a bit, “Yeah, but he is a lot more like a big brother to me than a dad.” I shrug, “But he’s a good person, that’s what matters, right?” She nods. “Anyways, about that book, how are we doing it?”

“What genre should it be?”

“I don’t know… drama?” 

“Drama? I was kinda hoping you’d say romance.” She asks, scratching my cat behind her ears as Sakespeare purrs contently. I smile at her, it’s really cute seeing her petting my cat without Shakespeare running away. “What?” She asks, seeing me looking at her.

“Nothing. It’s just- she doesn’t usually let new people touch her.” I say, “She doesn’t even like Dad.” 

“Are you jealous?”

I get a good chuckle out of that, “No, I mean, my cat cat _usually_ has pretty good taste.” I joke, giving her a cheeky smile.

She looks slightly insulted for a second, then she smiles as well. “Well, I think your cat has better taste now than ever.” She says with a devilish smirk. Then we both laugh. We sit and talk about the book for a while, deciding on a romantic crime drama about a detective named Daniel Kaybridge, a woman named Quinn Hartfield and a mobster named Stephano Bianchi. Eventually, she has to leave. I tell her goodnight and she goes upstairs to her room, but I linger a little longer, my brain still racing at a thousand miles per hour. 

“I need sleep.” I mutter, taking a breath and taking my stuff upstairs, Shakespeare trotting along behind me she joins me in bed, curling into a ball my stomach. I close my eyes and wait for my brain to follow. 


	4. A Day At Hogwarts

I am lucky to have Hermione, we walk together to class, her guiding me. Of course she is. We move to Transfiguration, which she is extremely excited about. She sits next to me this time as I choose the center seat. The old lady from yesterday stands in front of the class, “Good morning, everyone. As you know I am Professor McGonagall, and I will be teaching you how to transform objects into another form. For instance,” She waves her wand at a snowglobe on her counter and it turns into an armadillo. After a moment, she transforms it back. “This diagram on the board will be your reference point throughout the year as you learn to transform small things like a snowglobe and eventually move onto the most difficult form of transfiguration; transforming the self, also known as animagus.” She flicks the wand again and turns herself into a cat. My mother used to turn into a zebra for my birthday, they were my favorite animals. Anyway, enough of that tangent. I mean that I wasn’t anywhere near as amazed as Hermione was at McGonagall’s transformation. Hermione leans over her desk in awe for a few moments before returning to her seat and copying the diagram into her notes. Then the door opens. 

“Whew, amazing, can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we were late?” Ron asks, preparing to sit down. Hermione shakes her head at them and continues writing as McGonagall transforms back into herself from the cat. “That was bloody brilliant!” Ron cheers, trying to get on her good side, she just stares down at him.

“Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Maybe if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch, maybe one of you would be on time.” 

“We got lost.” Harry explains.

“Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats.” She says. 

Harry and Ron look down. “No, ma’am.” They sit together and the professor stands back in the front, monologuing about the importance of being on time as I shrug at Harry. Hermione elbows me and I return to paying attention, though I feel eyes looking at me. A quick glance tells me it’s Hermione and I pretend I’m interested as McGonagall goes into the history of transfiguration before our assignment, jotting down important notes. Hermione enthusiastically does as well, soon she’s in full-on student mode. I kinda like seeing her like this. She’s kinda...

… _cute…_

 _…What did I just think?_ I shake the thought away.

  
  


Next is potions. I tail Hermione there again, find an empty seat and she takes the one next to me. We’re lab partners. I smile at her for a second before I check my watch. With a sigh, I wait while Harry and Ron rush into the classroom and Snape closes the door. I know his name because it’s scrawled over the whiteboard. I should probably clarify this, he doesn’t close the door, he slams it, causing the two boys to jump as they take their seats, Glasses sits on the other side of Hermione and Ron is separated by a couple of seats. I would make fun of them being inseparable, but I’m not a hypocrite.

“Now then, There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few,” He pauses to look at a student. Malfoy, “who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death.” He looks in my direction and I swallow dryly before looking at Harry who’s writing notes, but paying no attention. “Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not… pay… attention.” Hermione elbows Harry and he looks up. She’s much less soft with him, and she seems to be too late. “Mr. Potter. Our new celebrity, tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Hermine raises her hand immediately, and I lazily raise mine, knowing he won’t call on me, but knowing the answer. “You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?” Hermione’s hand raises again, even faster. I lazily raise mine again as well, even slower.

“I don’t know, Sir.” Potter admits.

“And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?”

“I don’t know, Sir.” Harry repeats.

“Pity, clearly fame isn't everything. Is it, Mr. Potter?” Harry shakes his head and looks down. “And you two put your hands down. You look like a couple of beggars.” I glare at him. Normally I wouldn’t care about being called names, I’m not the type to take offense to that. This time, something’s different. Our eyes meet and his face shifts between surprise, shock, denial, anger, then respect as he breaks the glare, “Ten points from Gryffindor” He says, then goes back to teaching.

“Did you just win a staredown with him?” Hermione whispers.

“I’m from New York, of course I won.” She smiles and shakes her head then she snaps her head back at the teacher who gives me a look of warning. I give him one back and the corner of his mouth twitches, just slightly. But enough for me to see it. I don’t think this class will be too hard either.

  
  


Now we’re in study hall. After the tedious hours of sitting through talking old british people, it’s almost worse being in a dead silent room, my intelligence doesn’t help me here at all, I’m already finished with all of my homework. So I’m laying my head down and resting my eyes, listening to the scribbling pencil, soft breathing and quiet murmurs of the brunette to my left. I am about to drift off when I hear an explosion and sit up immediately to find that boy attempting to turn his water into rum had his plan explode in his face. Again. Hermione crinkles her nose at the smoke which smells of sulfur and I groan. Then something happens. Owls flood into the Hall, I imagine a tune from a show I watched when I was younger.

_Here’s the mail, it never fails…_

“Ah. Mail's here!” Ron confirms.

The owls swoop down and drop letters. I open mine and read it.

_Dear Sammy,_

_I didn’t expect the mail to travel so quickly. It’s like magic! (get it?) Your dad told me all about Hermione when he got home, how he thinks you two might get married someday. I told him that he was being nosy, I think he took offense to that. Congrats on your other friends too! Look Sammy, I’m glad that you care, but please don’t worry about me. I’ve beaten it before, I already feel good enough to write this letter! I’m glad you made it, keep up the good work. I’m proud of you._

_Love,_

_Mom_

I feel my face become a burning red and look over at Hermione whose face is even more red before smiling weakly. At least she got an embarrassing letter too. Then, a kid next to Water Kid speaks up, “Hey, Neville’s got a remembrall!” I look at the fifth friend who sits a little-a-ways down the table.

“I've read about those. When the smoke turns red, it means you've forgotten something.” The smoke turns red and Neville gets an embarrassed look on his face.

“Only problem is, I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten.” 

I chuckle at his expense and Hermione starts packing up her work. “You’re already done?”

“Already? You finished ages ago.”

“I never met anyone anywhere near as fast as that. Besides me. But I don’t think you can meet yourself, technically speaking.”

“You’re a wizard, Samuel, not a scientist.” She pokes my forehead and I smile a bit. 

“And you’re a witch.” I shrug, “I don’t know where I’m going with that, but there you go.” I poke her forehead in retaliation. She smiles and lays her head down as I pull out the book. “You wanna get started?” 

“Sure, as long as you’re doing the writing.”

“I guess that’s fair.” I mutter, “So who should we introduce first, the hero or the villain?”

We stand in two lines at flying practice as Madam Hooch speaks. I stand between Harry and Hermione. “Good afternoon, class.” She says, her voice sounds rugged and tough.

“Good afternoon, Madam Hooch.” The class echoes, with little enthusiasm, save of course Hermione.

“Good afternoon, Amanda, good afternoon.” She mutters to individual students as she makes her way forwards. “Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up. Stick your right hand over the broom and say, Up!”

“Up!” We all say. Harry and I do it right the first time. Prompting Hermione to stare at both of us, mainly Harry. Draco gets it on his third attempt and the others take a while. It took me a long time to learn as well, so I can’t really blame them. I whisper into Hermione’s ear, “Think of it like a yoyo, pull it up by the string.”

She looks at me and nods, “Up.” It lifts right up to her. “You’re good.”

“I know. I’m me.” I say, smirking as I look at the teacher.

“You gonna help Ron?” She asks, we both look at him for a moment, as his broomstick thwaps him on the nose.

“Nah, he’ll figure it out.” I decide. After about a minute, everyone got their brooms.

“Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight, you don't want to be sliding off the end.” Hooch orders, we oblige. “When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, and then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle...3...2…” She blows her whistle and Neville takes off immediately. 

“Should we help?” I ask Ron.

“Nah, he’ll figure it out.” We both nod in agreement as Neville makes. He thrashes around crying for help and the teacher yells for him to come down. 

“Yeah, do you have your books?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Get them, fast.” I command. He runs off and Hermione turns me towards her and starts talking. I don’t hear her as I focus on the boy barreling towards us. I shove her out of the way and dive down myself, unfortunately ending up on top of her, close enough to kiss if we wanted. I feel blood rush to my face from the thought, as I leap up. Ron shows back up with his books. “Everyone, follow that broom!” I shout. Eventually, he gets caught on a statue. I quickly estimate where he’ll land and how before taking Ron’s books and spreading them over the area and doing the same with my own. He falls and gets caught a second time on a torch holder, knowing I don’t have much time, I cover the books with my robe and draw my wand, “Spongify!” I shout. When Neville falls, it’s too thin for good cushioning, but thick enough for some protection.

“Everyone out of the way!” Hooch practically shrieks, as Neville groans in pain. “Oh, oh, oh, oh dear. It's a sprained wrist. Tch, tch, tch. Good boy, come on now, up you get.” I spot Malfoy reaching for Neville’s remembrall and glower at him. “Everyone's to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say, Quidditch.”

“Wait, what’s Quidditch?” I ask.

“Did you see his face? Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat ass.” Malfoy laughs, Harry and I turn to face the platinum blonde and his goons, after I disenchant the books and slip on my robe.

“Give it here, Malfoy.” Potter commands.

“No. I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find.” He lifts into the sky on his broom and circles us, thinking. “How 'bout up on the roof?” He takes off into the sky and I clutch my broom. I feel a hand forcefully take it and look back to see Hermione, she shakes her head and I groan knowing she’s right and feeling hopeless. “What's the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?” Draco coaxes, looking at Glasses, “Or are you scared because your bodyguard’s girlfriend won’t let him join you?” 

I draw my wand in a blind rage, “ _Descendo!_ ” Malfoy starts to sink and throws the ball in a panic. “Shit.” I mutter as Harry chases it down. When Malfoy is on the ground, I have half a mind to deck him, but I shove past him instead, watching after Harry as he catches the remembrall right before crashing through the window. He joins us again as the Gryffindors cheer for him. “Good catch, glasses.”

He looks at the pile of books and smiles, “Not bad yourself.” he says, getting off the broom.

“Harry Potter?” A voice calls, McGonagall. “Would you please come with me?” Harry solemnly nods and moves to follow her.

“Hey, you did the right thing.” I assure him, “They’ll understand, I’m sure of it.” He nods and follows the old lady inside as I gather my books. 


	5. Cerberus in the Attic

I follow Hermione through the halls after lunch as she continues to lecture me for almost getting Harry in serious trouble. I listen to her, but I don’t really register what she’s saying. She’s pissed. “Yeah, I get it, I screwed up, can we get off this?” I ask.

She sighs, “Yeah, sorry. I’m just really frustrated is all, it’s not your fault.”

“You’re fine.” I shrug, “You can vent all you want, just try not to take it out on me.” So she does, I listen along, nodding, answering questions, not really giving my full attention, because I have a million other things on my mind, but paying enough that I can give her some consolidation at the end, only I don’t even have to do that, she does it for herself as we sit down on a bench outside. “Well, hope tomorrow’s better?”

“I mean, if I’m being honest, today wasn’t  _ that  _ bad.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How so?”

“Well I had you to annoy, so it was okay.”

“You annoyed me?” I ask in disbelief, “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

Suddenly, we hear Ron and Harry approaching, “Oh, go on! Harry, Quidditch is great. Best game there is! And you'll be great, too!” 

“But I’ve never played Quidditch, what if I make a fool of myself?” Harry retorts.

“You won’t.” Hermione declares, “It’s in your blood. Follow me.” She leads us inside and up to a trophy cabinet, she points out one of the names. James Potter. Harry’s dad. I presume.

“Woah Harry, you never told me your father was a seeker too.” Ron says.

“I-I didn’t know.” Harry whispers.

“Someone answer me, what is Quidditch?” I ask, to no avail. “Whatever. Let’s get back to the dorms.” Hermione nods and leads us down a hall, we start going up a staircase, two pairs of close-knit friends, then the staircase shifts. My eyes widen, “Wait the staircases move?”

“Am I the only one that paid attention during the tour?” Hermione sighs.

“I didn’t like the guy’s attitude.” I argue, “He was rude, so I ignored him.”

“I second that assessment.” Ron says behind me. 

“Let’s go this way.” Harry suggests. 

“Before the stairs change again.” Ron agrees, 

“But don’t we want it to change again, to get back to where we were?” I question. The two boys push past us and I sigh before following them. Harry pushes open a door that leads us into a dark hallway, I use my wand as a light. “We shouldn’t be here.” I mutter.

“Yeah, I feel the same.” Harry nods.

“Yeah, that’s because this is the third floor. It’s forbidden.” Hermione states. Suddenly a torch lights up, we turn and see the cat at the door.  _ Shit.  _

“Maybe we could reason with him.” I suggest, then I turn to see them running down the hall, “Or not.” I chase them down. They get to a door at the end of the hall, “What’s the holdup?!” I hiss, turning off the light of my wand.

“It’s locked.” Harry says, baffled.

“Move.” Hermione grunts, pushing in front of him. “ _ Alohomora _ .” The door unlocks and she opens it, “Get in.” We do as told and catch our breaths inside. 

“Alohomora?” Ron asks.

“Standard Book of Spells, Chapter Seven.”

“Shit, you’re good.” I say. Then we hear Filch and hitch our breaths. 

“He’s gone.” Hermione whispers after a moment. 

“Probably thinks the door’s locked.” Ron suggests.

“It was locked.” 

“Anybody else smell dog?” I ask. 

“Look behind you.” Harry says, hushed. I turn and see a gigantic three headed dog. 

“Oh my god.” I whisper, “I want one.” The other three look at me like I’m an idiot. “Anyone have a red rubber ball? I read about this in a book once.” Then the three-headed dog wakes up. “Maybe we should try it another day.” Then we all scream and leave the room, pushing ourselves against the door with everything we’ve got until we finally get it shut and locked. “That was mad sick.”

“Yeah.” Ron agrees. We all laugh. “Now let’s get out of here before the reaper gets back.” We all agree and follow Hermione back to Gryffindor. Ron and Harry are heading upstairs to the dorm rooms. “What do they think they’re doing keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?!”

“You don't use your eyes, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?” Hermione asks. I didn’t notice either, but I decide to keep my mouth shut.

Ron turns, “I wasn't looking at its feet! I was a bit preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn't notice, there were three!” he argues. I resist a strong urge to punch him in the throat. Hermione walks up to him on the stairs. 

“It was standing on a trap door. Which means it wasn't there by accident. It's guarding something.”

“Guarding something?” Harry asks, incredulously.

“That’s right, now you two should go to bed before you come up with another plan to get us killed, or worse, expelled!” She turns around and pulls you towards the couch before sitting down herself. “You must be way more patient than I am.” She says, before allowing herself to laugh a bit.

“Eh, I’m from New York. Everyone’s annoying over there. Except the Jewish folk, they're a bunch of sweethearts.” I smile a bit. “You look stressed. Here let me show you something.” I run to the dorm, grab a box from my luggage, say a quick hello to Neville and rush back down, “This is one of my Dad’s most recent inventions for traveling wizards, if you tie this string to your wand, you can say ‘put on The Mask.’” A bubble pops up, playing the film. “Say pause and it’ll disappear, but if you say play, it’ll come back on. Saying ‘stop’ just stops the movie- like shuts it off, you can’t resume, and putting on another movie or show stops it too. Here.” I hand her one of the strings, “It’s still an early model and Dad’s still trying to get the rights to more stuff, just to make the choices more varied. It’s called a Film Reel.” 

She takes it, “Thank you.” She says, tying it like mine

“No problem.” I say, “Put on…”

“Mrs. Doubtfire.” Hermione says.

“Mrs. Doubtfire.” I repeat as Shakespeare jumps in between us. “Big screen.” The screen expands to the size of a poster and goes backwards a bit, settling right above the fireplace and it starts to play the film.

  
  


**Hermione’s POV**

I look at the boy sleeping, his head against my shoulder and a line of drool sparkling down his cheek. It’s just like the train. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. With his eyes shut softly and a pouty lower lip. If you would’ve told me two days ago that the smartest person alive would be asleep on my shoulder, I never would’ve believed you. He trusts me, which is more than I can say about other people. He seems to understand me. Sure he’s a little quiet, I can sense his arrogance, but… he’s earned it. He has a natural, raw talent for this. 

I smile at him as Robin Williams closes the movie with his spotty english accent monologuing over him picking his children up and the credits roll. When it’s finished, the screen disintegrates. I look at the tired boy resting on my shoulder, his breath smells of mint and feels cool on my neck. I decide it’s for the best to nudge him awake.

  
  


**Samuel’s POV**

I wake up to the feeling of gentle prodding and groan as I sit up. The fuzzy feeling of leaving the dream world fades a little as I look at Hermione for a second, then at where the screen was. “How long was I out?”

“Not long.” She assures me. I can tell she’s lying but decide not to call her out, opting instead to stretch myself out. 

“Shit, I drooled on you again.”

“You’re fine. You should get to bed.” 

“I don’t know.” I groan, “I’m not that tired.”

“You slept on my shoulder for an hour and a half.” She retorts, then a blush covers her face.

_ I didn’t even make it thirty minutes into the movie?  _ I think to myself, now I’m blushing,  _ An hour and a half?!  _ “Sorry.”

“You’re fine, Hedrich. I’m going to bed too.” I nod at this and rise steadily to my feet. Hermione follows me upstairs, we stop outside of the girl’s hall. “Thanks for spending today with me, Sam. I had fun.”

“You can call me Sammy if you want.” I say, earning a curious look from the brunette. “That’s what the people I care about the most call me.” 

She smiles at this before walking up to me and planting a small kiss on my cheek, prompting my entire face to heat up, central to that spot, I cup it with my hand and feel a dumb smile spread over my face. “See you tomorrow Sammy.” She leaves down the girl’s hall and I linger a moment longer, as I let an odd feeling wash over me. 

“Goodnight, Hermione.” I whisper after a second, turning around and going to my dorm, Shakespeare hot on my heels.


	6. Still Breathing

I sit in Snape’s class with no one but the teacher to keep me company, I’ve been in here for an hour. Why, you may ask? Pretty simple, really. I got into a fight with Malfoy. Me and Hermione were walking along the hall when we saw blondey picking on Neville. Hermione tried to pull me back, but I saw red, then he started talking about her and I snapped,calling him everything but a child of God, so to speak. Unfortunately, Snape came out of his class just time to see this, and now I’m writing a sentence a thousand times. Oh well. I look at Snape who has a very slight hint of remorse on his face.

“Why do you hate everyone so much?” I ask.

“I don’t hate anyone.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I grumble. “You know, I used to be a shy little runt, but after I went to a school that taught me to stand up for myself, I became outspoken because in that environment, it was either fight or die. I have sacrificed more of myself to magic-”

“You don’t know a thing about sacrifice!” Snape shouts, snapping that quiet demeanor in half and looking at me. The atmosphere is suffocating.

“Do you know who the fuck I am, Snape?” This catches him off guard. “I am Samuel motherfucking Hedrich. I have given up my body, my heart and soul for this. I have broken more bones than I actually have to have some semblance of peace, I left my mom to die in New York for this. Who the FUCK do you think you are to tell me that I don’t know sacrifice?!” 

Snape looks away and sighs. “You’d make a great Slytherin.”

“Funny how that works.” Then I see Hermione rush past the door, tears in her eyes. “Sir, I need to go.”

“Are you done writing?” 

“Sir-” 

“No excuses, Mr. Hedrich.” 

“I’m sorry, sir. I really am. But if I’m not there for her, no one will be.” I say, walking towards the door, which closes. 

“You know, Mr. Hedrich. If you were any other Gryffindor, I’d have tied you to that chair.” He sighs. “Go, you’re dismissed.” The door opens back up and I nod at him before running after Hermione. I follow her until she’s in the girl’s bathroom, then I stop. 

“Shit.” I grumble, walking towards the bathroom. Then I hear sniffles. “Hermione?” I ask in the doorway, “Are you okay?”

“Go away, Samuel.” She says. The tone of her voice is heartbreaking. 

“You know I’m not gonna do that. Friends stick together.” Her sniffles grow louder. “Hermione, I want to talk to you. Can you hear me?” Nothing. “Well I’ll wait out here then.”

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” She asks.

“Honestly, screw class. Screw that dinner tonight, too. I’m not moving a step from here.” I do as I say, waiting for a couple hours sitting a little away from the doorway, putting on a movie to watch in passing as I do, then I hear thunks heading in my direction. I turn to see a giant troll heading in her direction. “Hermione, you need to get out of there!” I draw my wand. “ _Stupefy!_ ” The spell has no affect on him. “Shit.” The troll swipes its club and connects hard with my chest, I feel a number of my ribs break on contact, as I collide with a wall and Hermione runs outside of the bathroom and stops in her tracks, seeing the troll and then me. The beast raises its club. “No!” I yell, jumping up and ignoring the searing pain as I grab its arm. An elbow to my face knocks out a tooth and I crumple to the ground. The pain is so overpowering. I clutch onto its foot and it drags me across the ground. Hermione hides in a stall and the troll sweeps its club across them. _He hurt her._ Blind rage boils inside of me as I pull myself up and get hit again. My body goes limp. 

“Hermione move!” I hear Harry yell as Ron pulls me away from the troll.

“You look like shit.”

“Fuck you too.” I wheeze. The boys start throwing chunks of wood at it. 

“Hey, pee-brain!” Ron shouts, getting its attention. 

“Really? Pee Brain? What is this, Kindergarten?” I groan. Hermione hides underneath the sink but the troll sees her and she screams as the troll breaks the sink in half. I see this and pretty much will myself to my feet, grab a chunk of wood and chuck it hard at the troll, hitting it square in the eye. “I’m still breathing, you sonofabitch!” I growl, through grit teeth. The pain is overwhelming but… _I’ve been through worse._ It ignores me as it brings the club back, winding up for another hit, Harry grabs on as an attempt to help her, and ends up on the troll’s head. This small action throws off the troll entirely who hits the ground in front of the sink and I run forward and grab Hermione as Harry distracts the thing, moving her back to Ron. “I got you.” I whisper, collapsing on the ground. “I… I… got…” I quit trying to finish the sentence and I feel a wave of fatigue.

“I know.” She whispers. Then looks at Ron, “Swish and flick!”

“ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ” He chants as Hermione helps me to a seated position, I see the club floating above the troll’s head, and Ron drops it, knocking the thing out. _Why didn’t I think of that?_ I give in to the ghost of unconsciousness.

  
  


I wake up in a hospital bed, feeling a weight on my hand. I force myself to look down and I see Hermione asleep on my hand. With a groan, I sit up and rub my eyes with my free hand. The doctor sees me and her mouth opens in surprise. “Ow, that sucked.”

“It should’ve, you punctured a lung, and you almost punctured your heart, too. All things considered, you should be dead.” 

“You didn’t tell her that?” 

“No. She looked like she needed good news. You did save her life after all.”

I laugh, “Overstatement of the century. Ron and Harry saved **our** lives. I never fought a troll before, not the best experience. Honestly, a solid two out of ten.”

“Do you have a history of picking fights, Mr. Hedrich?” 

“Yeah.” I admit, “But the creatures are much stronger here in England.” The woman says goodbye as Hermione starts to stir, leaving us alone. “Hey, you okay?” Suddenly, she has me in a tight hug around the neck. I rub her back and for a while, we hold the hug. 

“I was so scared. You almost gave your life to protect me.”

“I meant to look cooler, not get thrown around like a rag doll.” I chuckle, ignoring the pain in my chest. “God, what day is it?”

“Friday.”

“Shit. What’d I miss?” 

“Snape bewitched Harry’s broom in the middle of a Quidditch match and we concluded that Snape’s trying to get into that trap door. It’s protecting something from You-Know-Who.”

“Old V?” I ask, she nods gravely and I sigh. “It couldn’t have been Snape.” I whisper, “I’m not his biggest fan or anything, in fact, I think he’s an asshole, but I don’t think it could be him.”

“How could you be so sure?” She asks. 

“We had a talk while I was in detention. About me, and at the end, he let me go to find you, that’s how I was there so quick. Why _were_ you crying in there?” I ask.

“You’ll think I’m dumb.”

“That’s impossible. You’re the smartest person I know, Hermione.”

“You’re the one with an IQ of 300.”

“I’m also the idiot who tried to beat a troll with a basic stun spell.”

Hermione smiles, “I’ll make you a deal, I’ll tell you what made me cry, if you promise never to call yourself an idiot again.”

“I’ll try.” I decide.

“That’s not good enough.”

“That’s a hard promise to keep!”

“So is promising not to move and then staying in one spot for two hours.” She counters.

“Touche.” I mutter, “Fine, I promise.”

“Pinky swear.” 

“What is this, Kindergarten?”

“I guess I won’t tell you then.” I groan and extend my pinky, linking it with hers and shaking. “Okay. It’s because of something Ron said. He said that nobody likes me-”

“That’s not true!” I cut her off quickly, “ _I_ like you!” We make eye contact for a second before sharing a blush. “I mean… not like _like_ like, but... I like you, you know? You’re… you’re a good friend.” She studies me for a moment in silence. _Crap, you just made it awkward. Way to go, idio-_ She starts laughing. Soon, I join her and we’re just laughing away at ourselves. 

Harry, Ron and Neville enter. “I saw the tape of you getting hit, I wasn’t sure if you were gonna make it, he got you good.” Neville admits.

“Eh, I’ve had worse.” I shrug, then I turn to Ron. “And it’s your fault we got in this mess in the first place!”

“Yeah. Sorry Hermione.” he says.

“If you call her anything like that again, your head will have to be surgically removed from your ass, capiche?” Ron shudders and nods, “And Glasses. Good work in Quidditch.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

I sigh, “You’re welcome.” Before I get up. “I’m hungry.” I declare, starting to walk and ignoring the pain. “You guys coming or is this a rain check?” I smirk before exiting into the hall.


	7. Together and Divided

I walk with the group as Harry, Ron and Hermione try to convince Hagrid of Snape’s nonexistent foul play. “Nonsense. Why would Snape put a curse on Harry’s broom?” 

“Who knows?” Harry asks, “Why was he trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween?”

“Who told you ‘bout Fluffy?” Hagrid demands.

“Fluffy?” Ron asks.

“That thing has a name?!” Hermione asks in disbelief.

“Well, of course he's got a name. He's mine. I bought him off an Irish feller I met down at the pub last year. Then I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-”

“Yes?” Harry asks.

“Shouldn'ta said that. Don't ask any more questions. That's top secret, that is.” Hagrid says.

“But Hagrid, whatever Fluffy's guarding, Snape's trying to steal it!” Harry pushes.

“Codswallop. Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher.”

“To be fair, that’d be a perfect ploy to work under our noses.” I throw in.  _ Stay neutral, Sammy, stay neutral. _

“Exactly! Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a curse when I see one. I've read all about them. You have to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking.” Hermione explains. 

“Exactly.” Glasses agrees.

“Now, you listen to me, all four of you. You're meddlin' in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous. What that dog is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel.” Hagrid stops.

“Nicolas Flamel?” Harry asks.

“I shouldn't have said that. I should not have said that. I should not have said that.”

“Nicolas Flamel...Who's Nicolas Flamel?” Harry ponders. The name lingers in my head, and I can’t place why. I stop to think.

“I don't know.” Hermione whispers.

“I’ve heard that name in Dad’s studies.” I recall in realization. “He was immortal, he created something... shit! I can’t remember.”

Hermione grabs my hand, “We’ll go to the library together.” Then realizes she grabbed my hand and drops it.

It’s been two months and Christmas season has come around. It’s Mom’s favorite holiday. I smile weakly at the memory as Ron and Harry play a heated game of wizard’s chess, a game my Dad taught me to play. I suck at it. Hermione shows up with her suitcase and watches Ron’s queen decimate a knight with a chair shot. 

“That’s totally barbaric.” She says.

“That’s wizard’s chess.” Ron shrugs, “I see you’ve packed.”

“I see you haven’t.” Hermione rebuttals. 

Ron sighs, “Change of plans. My parents decided to go to Romania to visit my brother, Charlie. He's studying dragons there!”

“Good, then you can help Sam and Harry look for information on Nicolas Flamel.”

“We've looked a hundred times!” Ron declares.

“Not in the restricted section.” She says. 

I slide on my leather coat and beanie before standing up, “I’ll walk you to the train!”

She smiles at me before turning to the other two. “Happy Christmas.” Then we walk out together. All too soon, we’re at the train, “You promise to write?”

“Scouts honor.” I say, smiling, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I know. I don’t know what you’ll do without me.”

“Me either, probably get lost.” I laugh. She hugs me tightly, and I hug her back. “Have fun.” I whisper in her ear before pecking her on the cheek. She blushes and looks away, smiling. Then I wave her off. When I walk back into Hogwarts, I immediately get flagged down by Dumbledore who pulls me aside.

“Samuel, hey. There is an urgent matter you need to attend to at home.” He says, “Pack your things and meet Hagrid out front, he will take you to New York.” 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s not my place to say. It’s best you get there before it gets into the news tomorrow.” 

I quickly rush upstairs and pack my things. “If Harry and Ron are looking for me, tell them I had a family emergency! You’re in charge of Shakespeare!” I practically shout at Neville. Neville nods and writes down what I said as I rush to my ride.

  
  


We land in front of my home and I fumble for the key, getting it in as Hagrid follows me inside. I rush up the stairs of the lifeless home, fearing the worst. I should’ve noticed sooner. Mom’s once-perfect calligraphy had become nothing more than scribbles, her once fair skin turned a sickly pale and her hair had started to wisp away long before I left. I enter my parents room, prepared for the worst, but not prepared enough. 

Dad is kneeling beside my mother’s lifeless form, holding his hand and crying to his lost wife. My legs go numb and I crawl towards her. “Mom?” I ask, my breath shaky. This feels unreal, like I’m watching in from a screen. “Mommy?” I haven’t called her that in years. She can’t be dead, right? She’s mom. She’s gonna see me graduate, get married, have children, “Mom, wake up.” She’s supposed to read my stories, be there to see me succeed, she’s supposed to-

“She’s gone, son. She’s been gone for an hour.” Dad says, taking out his wand.

Tears stream down my face and I feel like a toddler again. “Don’t send her away, I can fix this, I can- put a preserving spell on her. You can’t do this.”

“Hagrid, make sure he doesn’t try to stop me.” Hagrid grabs my arm and keeps me from interfering. “This is what she wanted. She wanted you to be here” He says.

“No! Dad, please! Please, please…”

“ _ Ash to ash, dust to dust, _ ” 

“Please… please…”

“ _ Let Amanda Hedrich live with the doves. _ ” A flash of blinding gold light explodes from my mother. “I love you Amanda.” Dad whispers, tears rolling down his face, “I promise you that I’ll never love another.” He looks at his son as a golden form in the shape of their loved one steps out from the light. “Let’s have one last family hug.” I nod and join them as Hagrid lets go. Soon the room dims and the comforting third figure is gone, leaving father and son to cry in each other’s arms. Hagrid stands alone weeping softly to himself. As I let go of everything with a loud and long scream muffled by my dad’s shoulder. “You’ll be staying here tonight, you stay too, Hagrid, and tomorrow, I’m sending you back to Hogwarts. You shouldn’t stay here any longer. Not after today.” Then he grabs something, a microphone. “If you want her help, use this. She can come down three times, and this calls her. You need it more than me. Use it wisely.” 

  
  


I come back to Hogwarts to a hushed whisper. All eyes are on me, and I know why.  _ Breathe, idiot, breath. Don’t call yourself an idiot, idiot. Shit! Can’t you do anything right?  _ I walk to a place where I’ll be alone, but it turns out I’m not that lucky. 

“Being in this area over break isn’t allowed. Sit in my room.” A voice says, I turn to see Snape, with his arms crossed. I nod and follow him into the class. He closes the door behind us. “Dumbledore told me about the… unfortunate… Eve you had. If you ever need a quiet space, feel free to drop in.”

“Thanks.” I say. 

“I lost someone important to me too, once. She was a… beautiful… woman. I did terrible things to keep her safe, but she died anyway. Teaching here is my way of making it up to Dumbledore, maybe get a chance to see her one more time, before the Great Wizard sends me to Hell.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You’re a lot like me.” He says after a moment, leaving the room. I sigh and pull out my notebook, planning to write down the thoughts racing through my brain, but they don’t come out. I lay my head down in a mixture of anger and sadness. Why can’t I focus on one thought?! I’m acting like a child! I wish Hermione was here.

As if on its own, my hand starts to glide over the page with the pen writing down something. Hermione. I’ve written it down several times before I know it and slam the book shut, shoving it into my bag.  _ Come on, Sam. Clear your head.  _ I sigh and stand, making my way to the Gryffindor dorms, where I quietly lay down for a while, Shakespeare keeping me company, purring as a pet her. I can’t feel anything. I’m cold. I have no guilt. I don’t feel sad. I feel ice cold. I’m going through this whole grief thing pretty fast, huh? 

“Hey, Sam, you’ll never guess what Harry got!”

“I don’t care.” Cold.

Ron looks down and Harry takes a look at me. “Are you okay?”

“Leave me alone.”

“So the news, it was true?” Ron asks.

“What part of ‘leave me alone’ is so difficult to understand?!” I shout. Then I sigh, “Look, I’m going through some shit right now, okay? Please, just let me have this time to myself.”

  
  


I stay in bed the entire two week break except to perform basic functions, isolating myself from everyone. I’ve never felt so miserable. The pain is overwhelming. I want to cry so bad. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I-

The door creaks open and a familiar face walks in Hermione, tears are in her eyes. I failed her. I let her down. Of course I did. I’m such an idio-

She hugs me.

I feel something inside of me break as I clutch onto Hermione, unable to control the tears streaming from my eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve written-”

“No. You don’t get to be sorry. After everything you’ve done for us… for me… this isn’t fair. I’m so sorry Sammy.” We stay like this for a while. “I’ve been back for a couple of days. Harry and Ron told me what happened. You-Know-Who is in the dark forest. He’s weak, but he’s after Harry.”

“He’s after-- no. That can’t be.”

“It is.” Hermione states. “We also figured out who Nicolas Flamel is.” She looks up, “He created the Sorcerer's Stone.” She gives me a smile, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.” She pulls me into another hug.

“We’re gonna get you downstairs and you’re gonna eat. You look like you haven’t eaten in weeks.” 

“Yes ma’am.” I mutter, pushing myself out of bed.


	8. The Trap door

Me, Hermione, Ron and Harry are walking in the courtyard, after the end-of-the-year exams. After two months, with help from them, Neville and (kind of?) Snape, I have gotten to a point where I accept Mom’s passing. I’m lucky enough to have finality with her. I got my one last hug, and I still have three more conversations. Dad moved to London because of the pain he felt living in New York, so now we’re all well within commuting distance. The tests were all easy, for me and Hermione at least, and we were the first two done.

“You know. I've always heard Hogwarts' end of the year exams were frightful, but I found that rather enjoyable.” Hermione says. 

“You’re the smartest girl in the school, of course you did.” I laugh, nudging her.

“Exactly, you two are geniuses! For us regular humans, that was dreadful.” Ron says, before turning to Harry. “You alright there, Harry?”

“My scar. It keeps burning.”

“It’s happened before.” Hermione says.

“No, like this.” Harry replies, shaking his head.

“Maybe you should see a nurse?” Ron questions. 

“I’ve got ibuprofen if you wanna try that.” I offer.

“No.” Harry refuses, “I think it's a warning. It means danger’s coming. Uhh!” He looks over at Hagrid, who is at his hut. “Oh. Of course!” He picks up pace towards the titanic wizard and we follow.

“What is it?” Hermione asks.

“Don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger shows up and just happens to have one? I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets? Why didn't I see it before?” He approaches the wizard, who plays his flute “Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?” Hagrid stops.

“I don't know. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up.” Hagrid replies.

“The stranger, though, you and he must have talked.” Harry pushes

“Well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him. I said, ‘After Fluffy, a dragon's gonna be no problem.’”

“And did he seem interested in Fluffy?”

“Well, of course he was interested in Fluffy! How often do you come across a three headed dog, even if you're in the trade? But I told him. I said, ‘The trick with any beast is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy, for example, just play him a bit of music and he falls straight to sleep.’”

“Shit.” I say, “We need to go, now!” We four run off as Hagrid calls after us. We soon end up in McGonagall’s class. “We have see Dumbledore right away!”

“I'm afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately for London.”

“What?! Not here?!” I almost shout.

“Professor McGonagall, this is important. It’s… it’s about the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

“How do you know?” She asks, shocked.

“Lady, I’m the smartest person in the world, I know everything. What’s important is that someone’s gonna swipe it!” I snap.

“I don't know how you four found out about the stone, but I can assure you it is perfectly well-protected. Your father helped make sure of it.” She looks directly at me. “Now would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly.”

We walk out of the room and hunker down in the hall, “That was no stranger Hagrid met in the village. It was Snape, which means he knows how to get past Fluffy.”

“I don’t know.” I say, “Wouldn’t he recognize the voice? In case you didn’t notice, Snape’s voice is distinct, but I don’t know how observant Hagrid is, so I couldn’t say for sure.”

Suddenly, I hear footsteps stop behind us. “Good afternoon. Now, what would four young Gryffindors such as yourselves be doing inside on a day like this?” Speak of the devil.

“Uh...we were just…” Hermione starts.

“Getting a football, or whatever you guys call them in Europe. We’re gonna get a game in to help me practice for summer league.” 

Our eyes meet and Snape shrugs, “Okay, but you might want to be careful. People will think you're… up to something.” He leaves.

“Thanks for the save, Sammy.” Hermione says, “Now what do we do?”

“We go down the trapdoor. Tonight.” Harry decides.

“I’m with Glasses.” I grunt.

  
  


I put on my Yankees cap, Tino Martinez jersey and jeans and make my way down to the common room, the other three on my heels. Then I hear the croak of a frog and stop, seeing the culprit on the coffee table. “Trevor.” I mutter.

“Trevor shh, you shouldn’t be here.” Ron protests.

“Neither should you.” Another voice says. I recognize it as the occasional fifth friend, Neville and curse at myself for not checking his bed. “You’re sneaking out again, aren’t you?” 

I step forward once, Hemione at my side, standing tall, “So what if we are, Neville?”

“I won’t let you!” He stands, “You’ll get Gryffindor in trouble again! I-I’ll fight you.” 

“No, I don’t think you will.” I muse, before Hermione shoots her hand over my chest and pushes me back.

“Look, Neville, I’m really really sorry about this.” She draws her wand, “ _Petrificus Totalus._ ” Neville freezes and falls over.

I nudge him with my foot. “Damn. Gunslinger mentality. Nice.” Hermione smiles at this. “Anyways, sorry kid. But a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. Same for a gal.” I click my tongue twice and leave, the others apologize as they follow and Harry grabs his cloak and we all hide beneath it. Eventually, we’re just about there, My foot slips and I step on Hermione’s by mistake.

“Ow, that’s my foot Sammy!”

“Sorry.” 

A flame lights up and we stop at the door, Hermione pulls out her wand, “ _ Alohomora. _ ” The door opens up and we slip in. I grab my mp3 player just in case.

“Wait a minute, he’s… sleeping.”

“Snape’s already been here, he put a spell on the harp.” Harry says.

“It couldn’t have been him.” I whisper, “He’d have scars on his fingertips if he knew how to play, from practice.” 

“We need to move his paw.” Harry says, I sigh and help them push the paw off of the trap door, “Ladies first?”

I hear the music stop, followed shortly by a low growling as they argue, I press play. 

“ _ So you can suck my dick if you don’t like my shit, / ‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick…” _

“Shit. Wrong mp3.” I meant to bring _Queen_ _._ The dog starts barking and snarling at us, and I shove them into the trap door before jumping in myself. We all land in Devil’s Snare.

“Wow, lucky this plant-thing was here.” Ron comments, just before its vines start to wrap around us. I feel an impending sense of doom as Ron starts to freak out, causing me to freak out a bit. I feel fingers brush across my own and make eye contact with Hermione.  _ Stay calm, Sam. You’ve got this. _ I close my eyes.

“Stop moving, both of you. This is Devil's Snare. You have to relax. If you don't, it will only kill you faster.” Hermione orders Harry and Ron.

“Kill us faster? Oh, now I can relax!” Ron says sarcastically. 

Suddenly, she falls through, then I do, Landing right next to her, eating the ground with a hard thud. “You okay?” She asks, almost in a whisper. I nod, then the boys start yelling and freaking out. “Guys, we’re okay! Just relax.” Hermione says.

“Hermione, Sam, where are you?” Harry calls.

“Below you, idiot.” I grunt, getting up. “Calm down and you’ll pass right through.”

“Trust us!” Hermione cries. Shortly, Glasses has joined us. 

“We need to help Ron!” Harry exclaims

“Nah,” I grunt, “He’ll figure it out.” We wait a few more moments, “Yeah, no he won’t. Any plans, Hermione?”

“Why am I the plan girl?”

“I kinda… ignored… everything in Herbology.” I admit.

She sighs trying to remember, “Uh… Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Scare,” Ron’s voice disappears, but the thrashing continues, “it's deadly fun, but it will sulk in the sun! That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight!” She pulls out her wand, “ _ Lumos Solem! _ ” The vines retreat and Ron falls through. 

“Ron, are you okay?” Harry asks, helping him up.

“Yeah.” Ron says, “Lucky we didn’t panic.”

“You’re lucky Hermione is a damn genius.” I grunt, stopping the music, “She paid attention in  _ Herbology _ ! I don’t even pay attention in Herbology.”

Suddenly we hear a sound. “What is that?” Hermione asks. 

“Sounds like wings.” Harry shrugs. 

We enter a room filled with fluttering golden birds, “Curious, I’ve never seen birds like these.” Hermione whispers.

“They aren’t birds.” Harry says, “They’re keys, and I bet one of them fits that door.” 

Harry stops at a broom, suspended in the air, like it’s necessary. This looks like Dumbledore’s doing, but I feel my dad’s touches everywhere. “What’s this all about?” Hermione asks.

“I don’t know.” Harry admits.

Ron rattles the lock a bit then grabs his wand, “ _ Alohomora.” _ He tries, “Worth a shot.” He sighs. 

“If I had a paper clip or a hair pin, I’d be through this like clockwork.” I mutter, then I look at Harry and sigh, “That rusty key with the broken wing, you’re gonna have to get it. It looks easy, but it isn’t. My guess is that those other keys are gonna attack you, and Rusty there will be off like a pitch from Christy Mathewson, you’re gonna have to fly damn good to catch it.”

“How do you know so much?” Ron asks.

“I know my dad.” I shrug. 

Harry grabs the broom and then the keys start to swarm him, he struggles, but gets on the broom and takes off. We follow him around the room for a bit. Soon he’s zipping towards us, key in hand. “Catch!” He shouts, tossing the key. Hermione catches it and we run to the door Hermione shoves the key in and starts twisting as Harry distracts the other keys.

“Come on, hurry up!” Ron rushes.

“It’d probably be easier if you’d shut up.” I suggest, Ron sighs and does as suggested as Hermione opens the door, they rush through, then Harry, then me as I slam the door shut, which is immediately bombarded by a barrage of keys. “Well shit, that was close. Thanks, Dad.” I mutter. Then I see that we’re in a new room with chunks of… something scattered everywhere.

“I don’t like this.” Hermione says, “Not one bit.”

“Where are we? Harry asks, “A graveyard?”

“This is no graveyard,” Ron says, “It’s a chessboard.” 

“God I hate chess.” I mutter.

Ron looks at me, “Don’t you have an IQ of-”

“300, yeah, yeah.” I grunt as the room lights up and we see the giant chess pieces. “Wow, Dad, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.” 

“There’s the door.” Harry says, they walk towards it but the pawns draw their swords. 

“Now what do we do?” Hermione asks.

“Well boss,” I step forwards, and put my hand on Ron’s shoulder “I’d say we get to kicking some plastic ass.” 

Ron nods and says, “I’ll command the board from outside. Alright. Harry, you take the Bishop's square. Hermione, you'll be the Queen's side castle. As for you, Sam, you'll be a knight.” He puts his hands on my shoulders as if he’s entrusting something sacred to me. I nod and we get to our positions, I climb on top of a horse and Hermione gives me a worried look. I give her a wink and a small smile briefly appears before fading once more.

“Ron, you don't suppose this is going to be like… real wizard's chess, do you?” She asks. 

Ron points at a piece, “You there! Move to D5!” Next is white who draws a sword and kills our pawn, “Yes, I think that this is going to be exactly like wizard’s chess.” And so Ron plays, scrapes soon cover all of us as the fragments of plastic and steel fly through the air. Soon, it’s just me, Harry, Hermione, White’s queen and a… pawn? I see a spot where I can check the queen and look back at Ron, we make eye contact and I nod at him.

“Wait a minute.” Harry says in realization.

“Ron. You know what to do.”

“Wait, we can’t sacrifice Sam!” Harry exclaims, “There has to be another way!”

“If there was, don’t you think I’d take it, Harry?” I snap. Silence.  _ That’s the first time since we’ve gotten here that I’ve said his name. _

“No. You’re not doing this, you could die.” Hermione states.

I smile, “It wouldn’t be the first time I almost died to keep you safe.” I look at Ron, “I’m ready.”

“No, Ron, we can’t do this!” Harry shouts.

“Do you want to stop Snape or not? Harry, it's you that has to go on. I know it. Not me, not Hermione, not Sam, you. Knight… to H-3.” The horse underneath me slides forward as I look back at Hermione. She has a look of terror on her face that I wish I could get rid of. I try a reassuring smile. The horse stops and I look at the queen. “Check.” Ron says. 

The queen draws her sword and stabs it through the horse’s neck, the piece explodes beneath me as I close my eyes, then something hard hits my head. I feel new wounds open up all over my body. I feel pain.  _ I feel calm. _ “Sammy!” I hear Hermione cry, it sounds like an echo in a dark chamber, so far away. Then it leaves Earth as consciousness leaves me.

**Hermione’s POV**

I see Sammy’s piece crumble beneath him, the horse’s head hits his and I can tell he’s out. “Sammy!” I cry, I want to make a run for him, to cradle him. He’s sacrificed himself for others,  _ for me _ twice now. 

“No!” Harry yells, stopping me from moving, “We’re still playing.” I stand still as he walks towards a spot on the board and glares at the queen. “Checkmate.” After a moment, the queen drops her sword and we three run towards Sammy. “You two get him to the nurse’s. Then one of you go to the owlery and tell Dumbledore what happened.”

We nod and pick up Sammy, he’s lighter than he was last time.

**Samuel’s POV**

I wake up in the infirmary again, God my head feels like shit. What happened- wait, shit. I sit up quickly and find a familiar restraint on my arm. Hermione. Then I see Madam Pomfrey again. “Hello, did you miss me?”

“It’s good to see you again, Samuel.”

“Please, call me Sam.” I groan, “Was I out long?”

“No, just a day. Last time, it was three, so that’s good.”

“Good.” I lay down, “That’s really good. Do you know what happened?”

She smiles, “I think everyone does. I can’t believe Quirrell would do something so awful, though.” The smile fades.

“Knew it wasn’t Snape. They all thought it was Snape’s fault.” I laugh.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” she says, I turn and find Hermione awake.

“Wow.” I whisper, looking into her eyes. I never noticed the way they shimmer in the light. Her hair is let down perfectly over her shoulders, and her fair skin almost shines in the light of the room. 

“Wow what?”

“Nothing.” I say, blushing.

“Is there something in my teeth?” 

“No. No, your teeth are perfect-- fine, fine. Your teeth are… fine.” At this point we’re both flustered messes.

“Thanks.” She says after a while.

“For what? The teeth?” 

“No! No, for keeping your promise.”

“What promise?”

“Promising you’d be there, idiot.”

“Oh so you can call me an idiot, but I can’t?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough.” I nod. “And, as for that ‘promise,’ it was never just a promise. I want to be by your side, forever.” I say, then I somehow get more red. I’m probably glowing right now, “As… as a friend, of course!” I add, chuckling nervously.

“Yeah, of course.” She laughs too. 

“How’s Harry?” 

“He’s in another room.” Hermione explains, “Ron’s sleeping, Neville came in yesterday, left those flowers, and I took care of Shakespeare. ”

“Good. Thank you Golden, you’re awesome.” 

“Golden?”

“Like the sunrise in autumn.” I look away before saying, “Because whenever I’m with you, I feel like I used to in November, playing with Mom and Dad in the cool mornings, wearing a snug hoodie. I don’t know.” 

“I like it.” She says. “I can be your Golden.”

I smile as she takes my hand. Then Ron bursts in, “It’s Harry, he’s awake.” Then he sees me, “Bloody hell, you are too? I swear, you two are like terminators.”

“Ron, you just got fifty friend points, you sonofabitch!” I cry dramatically. Hermione fake pouts. “Aw, don’t worry, Golden, he still can’t call me Sammy.”

“When does that happen?”

“For you, Ronald, ten thousand.” We all share a laugh as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. Now they’re staring at me, “Well, aren’t we gonna see Glasses?”


	9. The House Cup

I stand in the mirror looking at myself. “Come on, Samuel, you’re fiddling like a girl.” Ron says as I continue to “quickly” fix my hair and give him a questioning look, I’m chewing on a piece of gum harshly. God I’m nervous, but I don’t know why. “I doubt Hermione’s gonna mind your hair being messy. I think she likes it messy, actually.”

“She does? Wait, wait, who told you I’m doing this for Hermione? They’re liars! She’s… she’s like a little sister to me.” 

“Well he is from America.” Harry remarks, smirking.

“Yeah, but New York, not Alabama.” I reply. 

Ron smiles, slyly, “Does a brother give his sister pecks on the cheek?”

“Well…”

“Does a brother follow his sister everywhere she goes?” Harry asks, pulling on his shoes.

“Hey, I-”

“Does a brother always get products that smell like mint because he knows it’s her favorite scent?” Neville asks.

“...I thought her favorite scent was Strawberries. Mint’s  _ my  _ favorite scent.” 

Neville shrugs, “Well she told me that yesterday, while you were talking to that microphone.”

“Whatever it is, Samuel, we know.” Ron says.

“There’s nothing  _ to _ know!”

Ron laughs, “Sure, all New Yorkers spend twenty minutes fiddling with their hair.”

“Bah.” I grunt, pulling on my robe, “I’ll see you guys at dinner.” And I’m out. Classes are out today and I find Hermione by herself in the courtyard I sneak up behind her and shout. He yelps and jumps then sees me and play-beats me up with a book.

“You look different. Trying to impress someone?” She says. I shake my head and she smirks before messing up my hair. “That’s better.”  _ Twenty minutes of work for nothing. _

“Watcha reading?”

“Oh just my third run-through of The Great Gatsby.”

“Third?” I ask, “I couldn’t finish it once.”

“The symbolism is great.”

“I wouldn’t know.” I shrug, “I never finished it. I don’t even remember what I did read.” She marks her page with a sticky note and takes out one of a different color before sticking it to the cover page. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna read it to you.” she shrugs. I freeze. “Sammy? Sammy? Hello?” 

“Huh?”

“Are you okay? After I said I’d read to you, you weirded out on me.”

“Sorry, it’s just… well, the last person that ever read to me was… my mom.” I take a shaky breath.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Hermione says, sadly. “If you don’t want to, I could always-”

“No. No, I want you to.” I say, scooting closer to her. She opens to the first page and clears her throat.

“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since…”

Soon, we’re three chapters in, my head is resting on her shoulder, she smells like cinnamon. I listen to her soothing voice read a paragraph or so and then explain the symbolism behind it and the hypocrisy of Nick; the narrator. If I could capture this moment, and stay here for the rest of my life, I’d be happy. Then Ron ruins it. 

“What are you two lovebirds up to?!”

“I learned a spell that’ll have you gagging up slugs for a day, honestly, I’ve been contemplating who to try it out on.” I reply sheepishly, before looking at him, Ron gulps. “We’re friends, that’s it, end of story, directed by fucking Alfred Hitchcock.” I then sit up and scoot away from Hermione a bit. “Besides, she was just reading me a book.” She nods and marks our page. “What are you up to?”

“Just hanging around. It’s kinda weird to be going home tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me.” I sigh, looking at the sky. “I don’t know the slightest thing about London.”

“I’ll show you around.” Hermione offers, “Maybe we can sleep over at each other’s houses now and then, I can read this to you.”

“I’d like that.” I say, smiling. “Hey Ron, if you’re in town, drop a letter, You can come with us sometime.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass on being a third wheel.” Ron says. I nod. “Anyways, just saw ya and thought I’d chat. See ya!” He leaves.

“Let’s go somewhere more quiet.” I suggest. Hermione nods.

  
  


Another chapter at the library and we had to leave to get to the Great Hall in time. Me and Hermione take our usual seats across from Ron and Harry and we all chat for a while, until McGonagall dings her glass with her golden spoon, stealing the attention of the room.

“Another year gone. And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus. In fourth place, Gryffindor with 312 points.” Clapping ensues but our own table is ashamed. “Third place, Hufflepuff, with 352 points. In second place, Ravenclaw, with 426 points. And in first place, with 472 points, Slytherin House.” The Slytherins celebrate and I make eye contact with Snape, who’s hardly joyous at all. “Yes, yes, well done Slytherin, well done Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last minute points to award. To Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool intellect when others were in great peril, 50 points.” Cheering.

“You’re damn right!” I cheer, hugging her tightly.

“Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years… 25 points.” Cheers from the crowd. I slap him on the shoulder. “Third, to Mr. Samuel Hedrich, for having the courage to sacrifice himself for the greater good… 25 points.” Congratulations ensue, followed by a return hug from Hermione. “And fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house 60 points.”

“We’re tied with Slytherin!” Hermione calls. I make eye contact with Draco and point to him and then the ground as he glares. 

“And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award 10 points to Neville Longbottom.” The loudest pop of the night ensues, I stay seated for it just basking in the glory, then I make eye contact with Snape once more, he has a visual smirk on his face as he nods at me. “Assuming that my calculations are correct, I believe that a change of decoration is in order.” He waves his hand and the Slytherin banners change to Gryffindor ones. “Gryffindor wins the House Cup!” Everyone throws their wizard caps in the air and I pull on my Yankees cap instead, side hugging Hermione.  _ Fuck yeah, we won! Nothing could make this better.  _ Then she pecks me on the cheek and the cheering hits an earbleed-worthy climax. I haven’t heard people cheer this loud since the Yankees won in 1996. Difference is, now I’m even more elated.


	10. Goodbye For Now

The next morning, we all get ready to leave. Shakespeare happily enters her cage and I stuff my cart and put it with my luggage, Snape is waiting. “Good morning, Mr. Hedrich.”

“Morning Professor.”

“Are you ready to go home?”

“As ready as I’m getting.”

“I get the feeling that you don’t want to.” Snape says, “Can I see you for a moment, in my classroom?” 

“Sure.”

In about ten minutes, we’re there. “Well, Mr. Hedrich, why don’t you want to go home?”

“Without Mom, it’ll be quiet. Too quiet.”

“That is true, but if anyone is to… get through this grief, no doubt it’s you, yes?”

“I don’t know.” 

Snape nods and looks me over. “I think there’s more to it. I sense… a girl?”

“What? No!”

“You two aren’t fooling anyone but yourselves.” Snape sighs, before turning away, “My instinct is never wrong, Mr. Hedrich.”

“There’s a first for everything, Professor.” I shrug and he smirks.

“Well, you are still a child, after all.” He shrugs, “Kids your age wouldn’t know of this sort of thing.” he turns, “You’re dismissed.” I nod and leave. Having him care about you is weird. Soon I’m in the cafeteria, where the rest of my friends are. I join them sitting next to Hermione. 

“Hard to believe we’re leaving today.” Harry says.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be hard not seeing you guys every day.” Hermione says, looking at me.

I nod, “I second that.”

“What are you getting at?” Ron questions, “You two live right next to each other.”

“We do?” I ask. 

Harry nods, “Hagrid used to use it as a place to stay when he was being hunted by creatures from the dark forest. Your Dad bought it off him. It’s three doors down from Granger’s Dentistry, and they live only a couple doors away themselves, on your side.”

“What Harry’s saying is that you live next door to one another.” Ron laughs. 

My jaw drops and the two boys just laugh. “How is that… but… this isn’t…”

“Well you two remember to write me. If you can.” She looks directly at Harry. “I must say, this has been the best year of my life.” 

  
  


We get off the train and say our goodbyes as we grab our luggage carts. “Ms. Granger, it’s been a while.” _ Dad. _

“It has, but that won’t be much of an issue will it, Mr. Hedrich?”

“You know? That was supposed to be a surprise… oh well.” He shrugs, “I just thought after hearing how well you two hit it off you’d like to spend more time together. I’ll be watching you in the afternoons, Granger. No funny business.”

“Funny… business?” Hermione asks as a blush washes over my face.

“You’ll understand when you’re a little older.” Dad chuckles. “Close your mouth, son, you’ll catch flies.” I do as I’m told and he leads us to a wall, “Sammy, do you remember the Cash Loop?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Well now it’s the Srekcuf Rehtom. They said ‘Fire bad. It will burn down the building.’ I said, ‘Screw you!’ But I had to change it anyway. So here we go!” He pulls out a lighter, “Granger’s Dentistry!” he throws it at the wall and a door appears. We all walk through it and I close it. We stand in front of the small Dentistry and Dad smiles, “Let’s get you to my place and order a pie.” He decides, leading the way towards a middle-class residential home. Dad opens it up and the lights flick on, Dad’s owl Sandra hoots as if to greet us as we enter. “Sash, be a dear and order us a pie, would you?”

A little house-troll comes out. “Of course Mr. Hedrich!”

“Sash?” I ask.

“She was here when I showed up, couldn’t very well drive her like a slave owner, so I set her free but she insisted on sticking around, she helps me out.” 

“He said thirty minutes.”

“Good, you ordered with my card, right?” Dad asks, Sash nods. “Good. Now, why don’t you two follow me?” He walks into the dining room and then,

“Welcome back!” Hermione’s parents cheer, standing at a table crowded with presents and a cake. I half expect to see Mom pop out. She always loved to do stuff like this. I sigh sadly when she doesn’t. Hermione’s hand brushes mine gently and she gives me a look as if to question whether or not I’m okay. I nod and Dad puts a hand on my shoulder. 

“Pie’ll be in thirty.” Dad says to the guests, “So you kids can open your presents.” We do just that. Hermione gets a signed copy of Stephen King’s The Shining, Les Miserables and a book of Edgar Allen Poe poems. I get a math puzzle, some paper and a typewriter from dad who shares a hug with me. “I remembered hearing about you guys’ story so naturally, I had to invent a new typewriter. It’s the Basic. Works just the same, you can switch fonts and colors and with this button, it will erase your mistakes. Don’t worry about ink either.” Dad sits down and Shakespeare brushes against my leg.  _ I forgot to let her out. _

“How’d she-”

“Cats are the original wizards, son. We learned everything for them.” Soon there’s a knock on the door.

“Did anyone order a pizza?” A familiar voice asks. Soon Hagrid thumps into the dining room, holding three boxes of pizza. “Sorry i’ took me so long. People at Papa Johns were movin’ like Flitwick on a unicycle.” The men laugh.

“How is old Flitwick, does he still teach?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna have to stop by some time.” Dad laughs, “Set those on the table, I’ll get the plates.”

“You and Dad are friends?” I ask Hagrid as he sits down.

“Yer dad was the bes’ Ravenclaw I’ve ever seen. Everybody liked ‘im. Yer mum was a darn good Hufflepuff too. There’s a reason yer so talented, although Malfoy ‘ates ‘is guts.” Hagrid says, then adds, “Draco’s dad.” I nod. “I was your Dad’s bes’ man. After ‘e moved to New York, we were pen pals.”

“Oh Hermione, I’ll be back! I need to show you something. Wait here!” I run upstairs, where I assume the bedrooms are and grab my broom before bringing it downstairs where people are eating at the table. “Hedrich Corp. made twenty of these. It’s the Hypersonic Broom.” I hand it to her. “They were the fastest brooms ever.”

“Are.” Dad corrects.

“Pardon?” Everyone at the table asks.

“They  _ are _ the fastest brooms ever created. If you flick that switch disguised as a splinter, it breaks the sound barrier almost instantaneously. They were banned from professional Quidditch because of that.”

“How do you play Quiddi-” I start.

“It’s basically a Nimbus 2000, with built-in steroids.” Dad finalizes, smirking a bit. “I mean, it normally is literally the same speed as the Nimbus, flick the switch and it’s a Hypersonic.” He folds over his slice as do I and we eat. 

“It’s a New York thing.” I say to Hermione who looks at me as if I were crazy. “If you fold it, you won’t burn the roof of your mouth.” I wolf down my slice and grab another. For her second, Hermione folds it and takes a bite. “See? Also, you get yourself a good crust, like the homemade slices in The City, it’s even better.” 

“So, Samuel-” Her dad starts.

“Please, call me Sam.” I cut him off.

“Sam, what was your year like?”

“It was good, boss. Other than getting concussed and breaking a few ribs. But that’s mostly because I’m an-- because I’m not careful enough. Honestly, sir, your daughter is the single most talented witch I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Without her help, both emotionally and physically, I don’t know where I’d be right now. So I wanna thank both of you for raising a good daughter.” 

“You sure are a well spoken young man.” Hermione’s mother compliments. 

“Thanks.” I reply, giving her a weak smile.

“Well if we’re doing that, I think it’s only fair if I thank you, Mr. Hedrich. Your son is the most brave, kind hearted, noble and welcoming Pure Blood I’ve ever met. He’s stood up for me, let me be myself, and almost sacrificed himself for the betterment of the students, and me. He fought a troll to keep me safe. He has gotten in trouble for standing up to others, but he’s the best young wizard I’ve ever met.”

“Chip off the ol’ block, huh?” Dad laughs, giving me a noogie, “I’m betting you’re Snape’s favorite.”

“Actually, I think I am?"

“That makes sense, me and him got a slice after school every now and then. Considering you’re just like your parents, you probably give him a bit of a nostalgia blast.”

Soon, it’s just me and Hermione sitting in the backyard. She’s staying the night. I hold the Hypersonic. “You wanna take it for a spin?” I ask. 

“Isn’t that illegal out here?” 

“Only if we’re caught.” I wink before I climb onto the broom.

“I have a phobia of flying.” She admits.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to-”

“No! I do.”

“It’s just like riding a bicycle, grab me tightly, I’ll keep you safe.” She nods and holds onto me. I hit the cloaking device and lift off, soon we’re flying slowly around London. “Is it as bad as you thought?”

“No. I feel… safe with you.” She whispers, finally pulling away from the tight embrace, enough to look down, “It’s beautiful up here.”

I look at her and smile, “Yeah, yeah it is.”  _ Why does that feel like it has two meanings? _ We hover over Regent’s Park and set down by the lake. I take off the cloaking device and sit down at the edge of the water, next to Hermione. “I really enjoy your company.” I say, “I wish the two of us could just live alone. Away from everyone.”

“I don’t think that’s possible Sammy.”

“I know.” We make eye contact. “I can’t believe we wrote that book all year and it still isn’t done.”

“It’s not like there wasn’t anything to stop us. What with… everything that happened.” 

“Yeah.” I mutter. We sit in comfortable silence for a while, both of us watching the lake. Eventually I turn to her and stare for a while. She catches that and I look away.  _ You look pretty tonight. _ “So, at school, is there anyone you like?” 

“Yes.” 

“Really? Who?”

“It’s a secret.” She says, “I don’t want him to find out.” She looks away, I feel disappointed. “Is there anyone you like?”

“Nobody.” I lie. She always knows when I’m lying.

“I suppose we all have secrets.” 

I nod, “We do.” I look at her again and look back up quickly, lying down. “There’s the Big Dipper.” I say, looking at it, “Or the Plough, as you call it here.” 

“Where?”

“Right there.” I point, getting as close to her as possible. “Do you see how there’s almost a line of stars that are brighter than the others?” I look at her nodding, “Connect the dots of the brightest stars.”

“Good eye.”

“I must have one to know how brilliant you are, Golden.” We make eye contact and turn to face her on my side, then I start moving my head towards hers, our lips are about to connect when-

“Oi, what’re you kids doin’ out at dis hour?!”

“We should go.” I whisper.

“Mmhmm.” She nods, we get up, I grab the hypersonic and we run into the trees.

“Oi, ge’ back ‘ere, hooligans! I ain’t done wit’ ya! Yer mince meat!”

I quickly flick on cloaking mode and Hermione grabs me tight as we lift off into the cool night air. “That was close.” She says, before giggling, soon it turns into a laugh, and before long, we’re both laughing.

“Yeah. Look, back at the park, if that guy didn’t come in, would you have-”

“Sammy, you’re my friend.” She states firmly, convincingly.  _ But she isn’t trying to convince me.  _

“Yeah. Yeah, alright.” I say, “Do you remember the way back, Golden?”

“Yeah, take a left here.”


	11. Second Year Students

Me and Hermione hung out a lot over the summer, and I’ve changed. A bit. I’m taller now, from five-three to five-five and I’m growing a bit of facial hair. I don’t know whether or not Hermione notices, but she’s going through her own… puberty problems, so I don’t really want to ask her. For the third week of the past two months, she’s been snappy. Dad told me the reason and… let’s just say I could never be a girl. In fact, the next day, I took her out to get some ice cream, and not the cheap stuff either. Turns out some girls do like Eminem and when The Eminem Show came out, we both got a copy. On a sadder note; on June twenty-eighth, I celebrated my thirteenth birthday without my mom and broke down into a crying mess in front of Ron, all his immediate family, Hagrid and Hermione who had to be left alone with me to calm me down. On July fourth, we travelled to a magical location where dad could test out his new animated fireworks. They didn’t go to plan and Dad lost two fingers, so we dropped by Pomfrey’s house and she had him regrow his fingers. 

Now we’re at the wall again, which Dad opens, holding a package for Todd. As Dad visits him, we spot Ron’s family and follow them. “Mrs. Weasley!” I call. She turns around excitedly but looks a little sad when it’s us. “Expecting someone?”

“Harry said ‘Diagon Alley’ wrong while using Floo Powder.” 

I sigh and hand her one of Dad’s teleporters, “This is one of my dad’s newest inventions, throw it at a wall to make a door, close it to close the portal, and this will be on the ground when you do. Voice works the same as Floo Powder, but it’s better.” She takes it. “As for Glasses, me and Golden will find him.”

“Thank you, Sam, thank you Hermione, you’re both a couple of sweethearts.” She walks after her kids and we start to look for Harry.

“I don’t know why we agreed to this. Gilderoy Lockhart is gonna be there.”

“You mean that author?”

“Yes, he’s the greatest wizard of all time!"

I check the date, yup. Third week of August. “Yup.” is all I say. I’m not poking that bear. “So… read anything good recently?” 

“The Life of Pi’s really good.” 

“I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet.” I shrug, then I look at Hermione, “Maybe you could read it for me.”

She decides to tease me, “I don’t know…” 

“Oh, come on.” I play along, “You read me so much other stuff.”

“Why do  _ I _ have to read it to you?” Now she’s acting like a stuck up snarky girl, her hands on her hips express her sass. I smile a bit.

“I like the sound of your voice.”  _ Shit. I said that out loud. _ She blushes and is about to say something when I spot a familiar giant -- well, half giant with a familiar boy in glasses. “Harry! Hagrid!” I call, waving at them, we meet up with them. Hermione hugs Harry as Hagrid greets us both. “Hey Hagrid.” We say in unison.

“It’s so good to see you!” Hermione tells Harry.

Harry smiles at us, “It’s good to see the two of you too.” 

“The hell did you do to your glasses, Glasses?” I grunt, his left lens is cracked.

“ _ Oculus Reparo. _ ” Hermione says, waving her wand. His glasses are good as new. “You need to be more careful.” she scolds.

“I need to learn that spell.” Harry replies.

“You’ll be alright now then, Harry?” Hagrid asks, to which Harry nods, “Righ’. I’ll leave you to i’ then.”

“Bye!” Hermione says.

“See you at school, big guy!” I smile, slapping him on the shoulder

“Thank you. Bye.” Harry sends the wizard off.

“Come on! Everyone’s been so worried.” Hermione scolds, we both grab a sleeve and pull him towards the bookstore.

“Oh, Harry! Thank goodness! We’d hoped you’d only gone one grate too far…” Mrs. Weasley calls. 

“Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Lockhart!” Someone calls as cheers erupt from almost everyone, Hermione included.  _ Am I really getting jealous of an adult? Grow up, Samuel. _

“Make way there. Please! Let me by, madam. Thank you. Excuse me, little girl. This is for the Daily Prophet.” A photographer says. His eyes rest on Harry, and then me.

“Harry Potter… Samuel Hedrich?”

“Harry Potter? Samuel-” The photographer wrestles his way towards us and we both get forced in with Gilderoy. Hermione seems happy, too bad I’m not. I know how this loathsome greaseball comes up with his stories.

“Nice big smile, boys. Together you two and I rate the front page!” He looks back at the crowd and my outrage rises, a firm scowl is planted on my face. “Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is. When these young prodigies stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, Magical Me, which, incidentally is currently celebrating its twenty-seventh week atop the Daily Prophet bestseller list, they had no idea that they would, in fact, be leaving…” Dramatic pause, “with my entire collected works, free of charge.” He hands both of us stacks of books, smiles for the picture and pushes us off. “Now, ladies?” 

Hermione punches my shoulder. “Lucky.”

“Yeah. Lucky.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.”

“You don’t like him do you?” 

I sigh, “No.” I give the few books I don’t need for school to her. “You can keep those.” 

“Thank you.” She says. I nod before catching up with Harry, grabbing a bag and dropping my books in them. He’s being harassed by the young Malfoy.

“I’ll bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter? Famous Harry Potter! Can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.”

“Jealous?” I ask, smirking. I earn a scowl.

“Leave him alone.” Ron’s little sister, Ginny demands

Draco plays scared, “Oh look, Potter. You’ve got yourself a girlfriend.” Then a cane sets itself on his shoulder and behind him stands another, older platinum blonde.

I theatrically gasp, “Everyone be scared, it’s Torrie Wilson!”

Papa Malfoy glares at me but ignores the comment. “Now, now Draco, play nicely. Mr. Potter… Lucius Malfoy. We meet at last.” He moves to shake Harry’s hand and pulls him in, using the cane to brush aside the young wizard’s hair. Forgive me, your scar is legend, as, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you.”

“Voldemort killed my parents. He was nothing more than a murderer.”

“Hmm. You must be very brave, to mention his name… or very foolish.”

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.” Hermione states.

“And you must be… Miss Granger. Yes, Draco’s told me all about you, and your parents. Muggles, aren’t they? You, the one with the big mouth,” I point at myself with a raised brow and he nods. “You must be Colson’s boy.”  _ Oh he wants to talk shit. _

“Ironic, the guy who kicked your son’s ass is the son of the guy who kicked yours. Now excuse me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never heard your name. Not outside of your book at least. Wasn’t it a critical flop? I know you know my Dad, Mr. Malfoy. My father makes twelve million dollars a year, before taxes, and every wizard who doesn’t live beneath a bridge knows his name. What have you got to say about him? Because there isn’t a turn you’ve made in your life that lives up to what he’s accomplished.” He looks like he’s about to snap, as does his son, before he just ignores me. “Coward.”

“What did you just call me?”

“So you’re deaf  _ and  _ ugly? Most be popular with the ladies.”

He bites his lip before retaining his proud posture, “You must be, let me see…red hair… vacant expressions… tatty second hand book.” He takes the book and inspects it, it’s almost like he’s on a script. “You must be the Weasleys.”

“Children, it’s mad in here! Let’s go outside.” Mr. Weasely says.

“Well, well, well. Weasley senior.”

“Lucius.”

“Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, all those extra raids? I do hope they’re paying you overtime, but judging by the state of this, I’d say not. What’s the use in being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it.”

“The only disgrace to the name of wizard here is the name Malfoy, whose name is founded on corruption and bigotry. Maybe you’d know the difference between fear and respect if you knew how to read your own book, yeah? Get lost, before my Dad comes back and hears of your empty threats.”

“He’s here?”

“Oh you didn’t know? He moved here last year.”

The older Malfoy falters before looking over Mr. Weasley, “I’ll see you at work.” He slams the book back into Ginny’s bucket and storms away.

His mini-me glares at Harry. “See you at school.” He runs after his dad.

Hermione sighs, “One day, you’re gonna pick a fight with an adult that you can’t win by insulting them or punching them.”

I remember the carnage I laid before me with one attack spell and shake my head to rid of it. “I’m very resourceful.” In comes Dad, his face and jacket are caked in white frosting. “I’m going to guess the prank failed?”

“He saw it coming and exploded the cake into my face.” Dad explains, rubbing frosting off his face. “Oh, hello, Mr. Weasley, good to see you again.”

“You too Mr. Hedrich!” Mr. Weasley says, “Your boy is very brave, he just stood up to Lucius Malfoy.”

“Like father, like son.” Dad shrugs and they both laugh, then he sees Gilderoy Lockhart and scowls. “Why’s he here?”

“Huh? He’s an author.”

“Kids, get outside. Me and Mr. Weasley need to have a discussion.” We do as we’re told and soon, all three adults are out. “Alright, are you kids ready for school?” Everyone says yes. “Good. My two, come on, we’ve gotta be quick.” We’re out to the car quickly and soon thereafter strapped in as Dad jets us to the station in less than ten minutes. “I’ve got a big meeting, so I won’t be going in with you,” He pulls out a book bag filled with coins, mostly gold, “That should last you this year and next. So don’t expect money when I send you off then. I put a weightless charm on the bag, it was great seeing you Hermione, bye son, I love you.” I grab Shakespeare as Dad pulls away and I shrug, setting Shakespeare’s cage on top of the cart.

“He’s going to a meeting with cake all over him?” Hermione asks.

“Probably.”

“Why doesn’t your dad like Lockhart?” 

“He probably had a bad experience. Dad is really good at making enemies.” I smile weakly. “I don’t like him because I think he’s a smartass.”

Hermione smiles a bit, “You’re still the same old Sammy, huh?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, “Am I?” Then I run through the pillar to get on our platform. “Maybe I’m not any different at all, but I sure hope I am. After everything we’ve been through.”

“You did get our book published, right?” 

“Yes.” I assure her. “It’ll be out in time for your birthday.”

“I never told you my birthday.”

“Your mom did.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” We drop off our carts and move into the train, eventually finding an empty boothe. “Glad I did, though. I have a plan for you.”

“You do?” 

“Yeah. I think I did a damn good job of it too. No more questions.” 

“But-”

“Ah. Nope. Not happening. I’ll call off the clown.”

“I don’t even like clowns.”

“You’ll find this one funny.” I assure her. She sighs and nods as a cart lady walks by, “Hey, you hungry?”

“A little, I guess.”

“Do you want to have a chicken dinner for two?”

“Sammy, that’s for couples.”

“Well we’re a couple of hungry people.” 

“That was awful.” She giggles shaking her head, “But it sold me.” 

“Miss, we’ll have the… chicken dinner for two.”

“That’ll be three Galleons.” I hand her four.

“Thank you.” She leaves and comes back, setting up a table for us before leaving again. Hermione and I wait in a comfortable silence. I remember a line from my dad’s favorite movie Pulp Fiction, “ _ That's when you know you've found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.” _

Soon our food comes in and we start chowing down. “Good choice, Sammy.” Hermione says.

“I’ll say.” I agree. Wiping my face on a napkin. “Anyway, I need to change into my robe. Save my spot.” I walk into the bathroom and change, I don’t bump into anyone this time as I come out, I come back and sit next to Hermione. “They still aren’t here?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Weird.” I mutter, then I look out of the window. “What’s a flying car doing out here?” She pokes her head out of the window and we watch as someone dangles from it. “Damn it, Harry.” I mutter as he gets pulled back in. “Well, it looks like they’re going to be a little late.” I say, “Hopefully Ron knows how to drive that thing.”

“Yeah.” Hermione agrees. We both sigh. 

  
  


We wait in the common room after the ceremony, she reads me the last couple chapters of A Tale of Two Cities, I rest my head on her shoulder as we share a blanket on the sofa by the fireplace. Her voice is soft and guiding, welcoming me into her imagination. This is almost romantic-- but it’s not. We’re just friends. Right? 

She lets out a cute, slightly stifled yawn before putting in a bookmark. “That’s enough for tonight, I think.” She says, “It’s already ten, we have to get up early.”

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“Do I detect disappointment?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shakespeare mews mockingly on her lap. “Nobody asked you, traitor.” I say, scratching her behind the ears. She mews as if to challenge me. “I think she can understand me.”

“Don’t be silly, cat’s don’t speak english.” 

“I don’t know… Something’s fishy…” Then the door opens as McGonagall enters with Harry and Ron. 

“What are you two still doing up?”

“Lost track of time.” I say.

“Well then, Sam, you can walk them to your room and get to bed. The same goes for you Ms. Granger.” 

“Okay, I’ll take the hooligans off your hands.” I stand up and stretch, “Where've you two been?”

“Here and there.” Ron says.

“Right. Well goodnight, Golden. Goodnight Mrs. McGonagall. Pspspspsps.” Shakespeare gives me an annoyed look, brushes Hermione twice with her cheek, then trots slowly towards me as we head into the boy’s hall and into our room. 


	12. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Second Chapter today to celebrate Christmas.

We stand side by side in the greenhouse, waiting to start herbology. Finally, in comes the teacher. “Morning, everyone!” Nobody responds, “Good morning, everyone!”

“Good morning, Professor Sprout!” We all say.

“Welcome to Greenhouse Three, Second Years. Now, gather around, everyone. Today, we are going to repot Mandrakes. Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root? Yes, Miss Granger.”

I made a move to raise my hand, but Hermione beat me to the punch. “Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been Petrified to their original state. It’s also quite dangerous. The Mandrake’s cry is fatal to anyone who hears it.” She smirks at me and I smile warmly at her.

“Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor! Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings their cries won’t kill you yet. But they could knock you out for several hours, which is why I have given each of you a pair of earmuffs for auditory protection. So, could you please put them on, right away?” We all move to do as she says. “Quickly! Flaps tight down, and watch me closely. You grasp your Mandrake firmly, you pull it sharply up out of the pot…” The Mandrake screams loud enough to be ear piercing despite the muffs as she displays it, “Got it? And… now you dunk it down into the other pot and pour a little sprinkling of soil to keep him warm.” She demonstrates. Neville falls over. “Looks like Longbottom’s been neglecting his earmuffs.” 

“No, ma’am, he’s just fainted.” Seamus says. 

“Yes, well, just leave him there. Right! On we go! Plenty of pots to go around. Grasp your Mandrake, and pull it up!” We all do it just as she did to a chorus of awful cries. 

We sit in the Great Hall where Ron is taping over his wand. Apparently he broke it when he crashed into the whomping willow.  _ Nice going, Ron. _ Hermione just shakes her head and smiles a bit. 

“Say it.” Ron mutters, “I’m doomed.” 

“You’re doomed.” Me and Harry shrug in unison.

“Hi Harry!” A small voice exclaims, followed by a bright camera flash, “I’m Colin, I’m in Gryffindor too. Oh Sam, hi!” Another disorienting flash.

“Nice to meet you.” Harry says as I recover. 

“What he said. And please, Samuel.” 

“Okay! They're for my dad -- the pictures. He's a milkman, you know, a Muggle, like all our family's been until me. No one knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till we got my letter from Hogwarts. Everyone just thought I was mental.”  _ A milkman is still a job? _

“Imagine that.” Ron mutters. I kick his leg under the table and he jumps.

“Say, guys. D'you think your friend could take a photo of me and you two standing together? Ya' know, to prove I've met you both?” Me and Harry look at Ron who’s shaking with rage. Thankfully the post comes at that moment and Colin sits opposite me to Hermione.

Then I hear someone say, “Ron, isn’t that your owl?” Suddenly, a wiley owl dive bombs into the table and slides towards Ron, it drops a red letter, “Look everyone, Ron’s got a howler!” The group packs around as Ron stares at it.

“Go on, Ron, I ignored one from my Gran once...” Neville starts, before looking off as if having a flashback, “It was horrible.”

Ron slowly opens it before, “ _ RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME! _ ” She softens suddenly, now speaking to her daughter. “ _ Oh, and Ginny dear. Congratulations on making Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud. _ ” The note turns back to Ron, sticks out its ribbon like a tongue and blows raspberries at him before it tears itself to shreds, leaving Ron absolutely traumatized. 

The other tables erupt in laughter as most of us Gryffindors cringe and Colin snaps a couple photos before I glare at him and he stops. “Look at it this way. How much worse can things get?” Harry tries.

  
  


Next class is Defense Against the Dark Arts, DADA. Last year, the teacher was a sociopath and this year, it's a narcissist. Hogwarts should do better background checks. I look at Hermione who is visibly excited and sigh. Out comes Mr. Perfect.  _ Dude, come on. You’re still jealous?! _

“Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award -- But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!” He pauses for laughter but nobody lets out so much as a chuckle. He continues on, “I see you've all bought a complete set of my books. Well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about. Just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in…”  _ Great. Not doing it.  _ He passes around papers, “You have thirty minutes. Start -- now!”

“I’ve got this.” Hermione says. I like seeing her determined. The small wrinkle that forms on her forehead, the eyes locked on the paper. The slight purse of her lips, even small things like the straightening of her back and the crossing of her legs just make her that much more adorable. I glare at Lockhart and he makes eye contact. I write in big letters across the paper: FRAUD before I turn it in and sit back down. He glares at me. Soon more are done and he grades them in front of the class. “How were you done so quickly?”

“I guess I know him better than I thought.” I fib, turning my head away from her. 

“Tut, tut. Hardly any of you remembered my favorite color is lilac. But Miss Hermione Granger knew that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair care potions. Good girl.” Hermione beams and I roll my eyes as Lockhart pulls out a cage. “Now... be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourself facing your own worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here…” 

“Yeah, right.” I mutter. Hermione looks at me.

“I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them.” He says, pulling off the cover to reveal…

“Cornish Pixies?” I ask, dumbfounded. In America, I would dispatch of these things with ease before I was half the wizard I am now. 

“Freshly caught Cornish Pixies.” Seamus starts to snicker. “Laugh if you will, Mr. Finnegan, but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters. Let's see what you make of them now!” He lets them out and they fill the room, causing mayhem. However, they leave me be. “Come on now, round them up, round them up. They're only pixies.” He says.  _ Not a very good teacher either, by.the looks of it.  _ He makes eye contact with me once more, frowning at my calm demeanor. “ _ Peskipiksi Pesternomi! _ ” He cries, casting a spell that has no affect and a pixie takes his wand to toss it out of the window. “I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage.” He says as he retreats. 

“What now?” Ron asks. 

“Damn coward.” I mutter, standing and drawing my wand. “ _ Cornish Veternum Locus! _ ” I shout. Every pixie in the room stops what they’re doing and faints.

“ _ Immobilus! _ ” Hermione chants, stopping a number of pixies from falling to an almost certain death. “Where’d you learn that?” She asks as Neville, who the pixies had tormented by lifting him into the air, falls square on Lockhart’s desk. 

“My Dad.” I reply, “When I was a kid. You okay there Nev?”

“Why is it always me?”

After rounding up all of the sleeping pixies and stuffing them into the cage, Lockhart dismisses us. Us five walk down the hall. Everyone else with messed up hair and scratches, me looking the exact same as I did before the pixie attack.

“... so if you’re calm, you’re invisible to them, that’s why I’m fine. If that imbecile of a teacher knew the slightest thing about pixies, he’d know that.”

“Yeah! I mean can you believe him?” Ron adds, “He just abandoned us.”

“I'm sure Professor Lockhart just wanted to give us some hands-on experience.” Hermione excuses. 

“By running like a coward when his wand got stolen? By doing nothing when he had it?”

“Yeah Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing.” Ron nods.  _ And if  _ **_we_ ** _ agree on something, it’s gotta be right. _

Hermione grunts. “Rubbish. Read his books. You'll see all the amazing things he's done.”

“He  _ says  _ he’s done.” I mutter.

After a quiet lunch, we are chatting in the courtyard when there’s among the Quidditch teams. I still have no idea how to play it. “I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We're going to train earlier, harder, and longer! What the... I don't believe it!” Out comes the Slytherins. 

“I smell trouble.” Ron says. I nod in agreement and the three of us stand and join Gryffindor.

“Clear out, Flint! I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today.” Wood says.

“Easy Wood, I have a note.” The Slytherin team leader says, holding out a piece of parchment paper that Wood snatches.

“'I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.' You've got a new Seeker? Who?” The Slytherin players shuffle aside to reveal Malfoy.

“Draco?” Harry asks.

“That’s right.” The platinum blonde spits, “And that’s not all that’s new this year.”

“Those are Nimbus 2001s!” Ron exclaims.

“A generous gift from Draco’s father.” Green Leader says

“That's right, Weasley. You see, unlike some, my father can afford to buy the best.” Draco smirks.

Hermione stands up for Ron, “At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent.”

“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood.”

Silence.

“What the  **fuck** did you just call her?” Draco realizes his mistake, but before he can run away, I have him by the robe. My head is pounding, my blood is boiling, I feel my entire body shaking as if I were out in a blizzard wearing a tank top. “Speak you son of a bitch!” I spit, he stutters and stumbles over his words for a few seconds before I draw my fist back and bring it into his jaw. He crumples to the ground and I stand over him like a slasher villain, he tries to crawl away but I grab his leg and pull him towards me, then I put him in a chokehold. “I hear you call her that again, and it won’t be a bruised jawbone you’re playing with, got it?”

“Fine.” Draco hisses and I shove him to his team. I see a flash and turn around to see Colin. “ _ Avifors! _ ” Suddenly the world seems bigger. Wait, where are my arms? I look at it and it’s a wing.  _ That son of a bitch turned me into a goddam pigeon!  _

As Hermione performs the counterspell, Ron stands up for me, “You’ll pay for that. Eat slugs!” It backfires and Ron lays on the ground, gagging. 

“Bloody hell,  _ Transformatio Subsisto!”  _ In seconds, I’m me again, and I’m laying on the ground after gathering my stuff, I get up to see Ron gagging up slugs. “What do we do?” Hermione asks.

“Let’s take him to Hagrid, he’ll know what to do.” Harry suggests.

  
  


Soon Ron’s burping up slugs into a bucket in Hagrid’s shack as Hermione stands off from us. “How’d this happen?” he asks after a moment.

“He turned Sam-” Ron gags up another slug, “-into a bird, I was getting revenge and it backfired.” 

“Why’d he turn Sam into a bird?”

“Sam punched him in the face.”

Hagrid is now even more distraught, “Sam, why’d yeh punch ‘im in de face?!”

“I’ll tell you why, he called Hermione a mudblood.”

Hagrid’s jaw drops, “No.”

“What does it mean?” Harry asks. 

Hermione looks away, “It means dirty blood. Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who was Muggle-born. Someone with non-magic parents. Someone... like me. It's not a term one usually hears in civilized conversation."

I see tears in her eyes and move to comfort her as Hagrid speaks, “Yeh see, Harry. There are some wizards -- like Malfoy's family -- who think they're better than everyone else 'cause they're what people call pureblood.” Hermione grabs the front of my robe and buries her face into my chest, weeping. I rub her back gently with one hand and brush her hair with the other, the same way Mom did to console me after the family dog Pat passed away.  _ Now I’m crying. Good job, brain.  _ I take a shaky breath. 

“Mom and Dad met through that, my grandparents on both sides were Posh Purebloods, as I call them, but my Dad’s mom changed her views towards the end of her life. Together, Mom and Dad fled to America and had me, taught me common decency.” I spit the last word out, before going back to holding the shaking girl in my arms. “The idea that one wizard is better than another strictly because of their family is ludicrous.”

“He’s right. It's codswallop ter boot. Dirty blood. There's 'ardly a wizard today that's not half-blood or less. If we 'adn't married Muggles we'd've died out long ago. Besides, they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do…” He walks towards us, kneels and puts a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Don' you think on it, Hermione. Don' you think on it fer a minute.” 


	13. Birthday Girl

After being excused by Dumbledore, thanks to a _lot_ of convincing, I have Hermione to myself for the day. I wake up early and grab my box of gifts, I grab a small one to start her off, a little crystal ball-shaped lava lamp. It’s dumb, but she’ll like it. Her favorite color is purple after all. I wrap it and the rest of the gifts up before hiding those and setting the ball on the common room table, with a note that reads: _For: Hermione, meet me in the kitchen._ Moving into the kitchen, note in my pocket, I start to make breakfast. Eggs, hash browns, sausage and pancakes are what Dad sent, so I prepare it. I remember that she likes her eggs over easy and set six eggs aside, soon she’s down.

“You got us both the entire day off school? How?” 

“I convinced Snape to vouch for me.”

She smiles, “And this?”

“McGonagall let me use the kitchen, Dad sent the food.” I explain. 

“Ah.”

“Yep.”

“That smells really good.”

“Thank you. Mom taught me how to cook, said that when I get married I should help my wife, not hinder her.” I crack her eggs into the pan while flipping a pancake and then I quickly check the hashbrowns in the oven and turn over the sausages. Before returning to the eggs, flipping them.

“Doing a bit too much at once?” She teases. “I could help.”

“You’re the birthday girl, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

She takes off her robe and vest before tying up her hair and joining me.

“I’ll get the sausages and pancakes, you get the eggs and hash browns.”

“Yes chef.” I concede, seasoning the eggs and cooking them at low heat. “I like your hair like that. It’s a different look on you.” She smiles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. You look… really nice. I also like your hair down though. Those natural curls fit you well.” I plate the eggs and start on two more.

“I like the way you look too. Especially with the wild hair, you look like a mad scientist.”

“Thanks, Golden.” I flip my eggs.

“Why does Snape like you?” She asks after a second. 

_You’re a lot like me._

“The attitude.” I jiggle the pan, lower the heat and season the eggs. “I mean, it certainly isn’t because I’m charming.”

“You have your moments.” She plates the sausages and pancakes three each while I take out the hash browns and also split them three a piece before dumping my eggs onto my plate and serving everything, grabbing the syrup from a nearby cupboard. “Like just now. This. I mean, this is what Mum and Dad made me every year for breakfast. You really do pay attention to everything, don’t you?”

“I learn fast, Golden. I am the smartest man alive after all. In everything except common sense.” I smile at her, this is the girl of my dreams. 

_Shame you’ll never have her._

I sigh and start to eat. “This is pretty good.” 

She smiles. “Good, you made it.” 

“Did you like the gift?” 

“I loved it.” A comfortable silence ensues until we’re finished, at which point we wash up, she undoes her hair and gets her robe and vest back on and we go to McGonagall's classroom. I rap the door thrice and a kid opens it. We’re here to get Hermione a rare book, but it’s a surprise for her. 

“Ah, Mr. Hedrich. Ms. Granger. Class, these are two of the finest first years I’ve ever taught. In fact, while I grab something for Ms. Granger, Mr. Hedrich will show you all some spells.”

I bow. “Good afternoon, class, I’m a second year here. I am an author and my Dad’s an inventor, although you probably knew that, considering he’s the most famous Wizard inventor on Earth. Now I will be showing you a spell that my father invented, it’s called: Calm World.” I swish my wand over my head and bring it down to the floor, at first nothing happens then out of the ground comes small specs of light that soon engulf the room about two-hundred lights of all different colors.

“Mr. Hedrich, how are you doing it?”

“Concentration. If you focus entirely on the outcome, the action will adjust itself.” Then a squeal of excitement is heard, causing me to lose focus and all the lights sparkle out. “Sorry, I can’t do it again. It gives me migraines. The point is that magic isn’t just power, magic is life itself. Us wizards and witches are all the same, we are gifted with the ability to alter life. To alter existence. We are in touch with that, but we can’t treat muggles or squibs like lesser humans because of their inability to do what we can. Just like we can’t pretend muggleborns are lesser magic users. All magic is fair, all magic is just, the only true purebloods are the cats. Take this from a ‘pureblood’ himself, the only difference is ego. Don’t inflate it.” I turn to see Hermione with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face, she holds the special book in her hand. “If you don’t believe me, she’s a muggleborn and she’s twice the witch I’ll ever be a wizard. I’ve gotta give you back to Mrs. McGonagall now. I have plans. See you all some other time.”

Me and Hermione rush out of the classroom. Then she hugs me, “You’re actually awesome, Sammy.”

“Thanks.” I open a broom closet and pull out my Hypersonic and bookbag, “I know a perfect place to fly to, follow me.” Soon, we’re in the courtyard. “I found this place a few days ago, after helping Neville find his frog. Grab on.” She does and I take off.

“I’ve never felt so safe flying.” Hermione whispers.

“I’m glad you feel safe.” _God, I missed this._ After a couple hundred more yards, we dive down beneath a cliff and into a cavern, with magic creatures galore surrounding it and a beautiful waterfall. After a few hours of exploration, I grab picnic stuff out of my bookbag, and we eat some sandwiches, before packing up and visiting a nearby village having a festival of some sort. I buy her a necklace with all four dorm logos on pearls and a big gold Hogwarts one in the middle for fifty Galleons, roughly three-hundred twelve dollars. Don’t worry, I bought it of my own accord, I just saw her eyeing it, so I got it. “Never say I don’t spoil you.”

“You got me something worth Two-hundred thirty-five pounds! Are you crazy?” She asks as we eat ice cream.

“Probably, but didn’t you get me that 1920 Yankees coat signed by Babe Ruth?” 

“Yeah, but-”

“You know how much that’s worth, right?”

“Well yeah, but-”

“How’d you get it anyway?”

“It belonged to my great grandfather, but-”

“No more buts. You deserve to be spoiled. You spoil me every day by just being around.” I reach out and touch her cheek for a brief moment before I pull her into a hug, “Happy birthday.”

“I think this might be the best birthday of my life.”

“Told you, I did a damn good job.” We enjoy a few rides and stay until we have to be back at school for dinner, so we take off and fly back. Setting down in the courtyard, running up to dorms to put our brooms away and coming back down. The Gryffindor table is empty for a while while we eat, eventually people start to join us, I play dumb. After dinner, we head back up to the dorms. The lights are out and it’s pitch black.

“Weird.” Hermione whispers. 

“Yeah.” I agree, “Hello?” Shakespeare brushes across our ankles and I smile down at her. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE!!!” The lights flick on and everyone cheers. Shakespeare jumps and darts away. Ron is in front of the pack and wearing the clown costume. I smile.

“You did all of this-”

“Not just me, although I was just the evil mastermind behind the plan.” purple balloons hang from the ceiling and a great big cake rests on the table, Hagrid and McGonagall sit on the couch and clap. “But this is all for one person. Me.” Silence. 

“What?”

“I said ‘you,’ what do you mean?” She playfully hits me in the chest. “So, presents or cake first?”

“I’m partial to the cake m’self.” Hagrid says. 

“I don’t want to get frosting on my gifts…” 

“Presents first!” I call. A table stacked with presents rolls towards us, it takes her an hour to get through them all, clothes, books, cards, body products, perfumes, the works. Eventually we paused and she blew out the candles, and I just cut her a big slice of cake before letting everyone else eat. It’s gone before I get a slice. Oh well. She’s at the last card soon, it’s from me with OPEN LAST written on it. She opens it and out comes a newspaper clip. 

**_ New Book Takes Over _ **

_ For the past thirty-five weeks, Gilderoy Lockhart’s ‘Magical Me’ has held the top position of the best-selling novel in the wizard world, but last night, a new story written by Muggleborn Hermione Granger and Samuel Hedrich, heir of Hedrich Corp. has taken the world by storm. ‘The Criminals’ is a thrilling romantic crime drama that hooks you in from cover to cover, it will make you laugh, it will make your heart race and it will make you cry. Brilliant work from a new team of authors. It is deserving of the title: the best selling book in the wizard world.  _

I have never seen Hermione this happy, tears fall from her eyes and streak down her cheeks. “That’s right, Golden. Your book is a bestseller.” I hug her.

“No, _our_ book is.” She whispers. Suddenly a picture is taken of us and we turn to see Colin holding his camera. I sigh and focus back on Hermione. “I don’t know how today could get any better.”

“Did you see Ron in the clown suit?”

“Yes, I saw Ron in the clown suit.”

“That made my day better.”

“I bet it did.” 

“Alright, party’s over.” McGonagall announces. “You two clean up.” She points to me and Hermione, “The rest, get to bed.” The teachers shuffle out as everyone goes off to bed. 

“ _Quisquiliae Vale._ ” Hermione says and with a flick of her wand, all of the streamers, balloons and wrapping paper disappear. 

“Nice.”

“I know.” she smirks, then we sit down and she starts eating her cake as I put on Ace Ventura. “This is really good. Did you get any?” She asks.

“Hmm?”

“Cake.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.” She cuddles up to me for once, leaning onto my shoulder under the cover of our blanket she holds a bite out for me. “Try it, I mean, you bought it.”

“For you.”

“Still.” 

“Fine.” I sigh opening my mouth as she feeds me the cake. I swallow. “It’s okay. Mom’s was better.”

“I’m sure it was.” She says. After a while, she asks, “Sammy?”

“Hmm?”

“Would your Mum have liked me?”

“Considering just by the letters, she was planning our marriage, yeah.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“You’re the kindest, smartest, most selfless human I’ve ever met, behind her.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah… something along those lines, at least. Happy birthday, birthday girl.”

“Thank you, Sammy, for today.”

I brush Hermione’s hair out of her face, “You’re welcome.”


	14. The Chamber of Secrets

We all sit at the table, but Harry hasn’t shown up yet. “What’s taking him so long?” Hermione asks.

“He’s helping Lockhart respond to fanmail.” Ron shrugs.

“What?!” Me and Hermione practically shout.

“Yeah, that’s what Lockhart does for detention, apparently. I mean, it might make Harry think twice before letting me drive again, I have to clean the trophies. I’ll tell you, I’d take Lockhart’s detention over mine any day of the week.” 

“I usually get put with Snape.” I sigh. “He actually isn’t that bad, just makes you write sentences.”

“You’re the only Gryffindor who he respects, that’s why.” Ron objects.

“Maybe.” I shrug, “But why isn’t he out of detention yet?”

“Let’s go check on him.”

“Why?” Ron asks, sarcastically, “Is it because you wanna see Lockhart again?”

Hermione blushes, but shakes her head, “No, because Harry could be in trouble.” 

It doesn’t take long to find him, but we find him mid panic attack. He looks at us like he hasn’t seen a fellow human in years. “Harry!” Hermione says with concern.

“Did you hear it?” He asks.

“Hear what?” Ron demands.

“That... voice.”

“Voice?” I ask, cautiously, “What voice?”

Harry’s eyes dart around, “I heard it first in Lockhart's office and then again, just --” He looks up as if someone were speaking, “It's moving. I think it's going to... kill.” He runs off. I look cautiously at Hermione, and we follow him down several hallways, through some doors, down some stairs and down another hallway, Then we stop and my heart drops. 

“‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware’” I read. 

“It’s written in blood.” Hermione adds.

“What’s that hanging below it?” Ron squeaks.

Harry answers, “It’s Filch’s cat; Mrs. Norris.” I shift my attention a few paces right, where a line of spiders scuttle up a web and climb through a crack in the window. 

“Look at that. Have you ever seen spiders act like that?” Hermione asks.

“No.” I whisper. “It’s…” I look for the right word to say, “...peculiar.” I decide.

“I don’t like spiders.” Ron whimpers. Then the hallway comes to life as a crowd soon gathers around us.

“Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!” A familiar voice hisses, I turn to see Draco with a big bruise on his swollen jaw, staring Hermione down and I clench my fist. A hand grabs mine and I turn to see Hermione shaking her head.

“What's going on here? Go on now! Make way…” A voice says. Filch. He stops dead in his tracks, “Mrs. Norris!” He glares at Harry, and grabs him by the tie, “You! You've murdered my cat! I'll kill you! I'll --”

“Argus!” A voice calls. Dumbledore. “Argus, I-” He freezes, “Everyone will proceed to their dormitories immediately. Everyone except you four.” He looks at me, Hermione, Ron and Harry. As the hall empties, Dumbledore takes Mrs. Norris off the hook gently.

Lockhart looks at it, “It was definitely a curse that killed her -- probably the Transmogrifian Torture. Encountered it myself once, in Ouagadougou. The full story's in my autobiography…”

“She's not dead, Argus. She's been Petrified.” Dumbledore says.

“Precisely! So unlucky I wasn't there. I know the very countercurse that could have spared her…”

“I bet you do.” I mutter.

“But how she's been Petrified... I cannot say.” Dumbledore sighs.

Filch points at Harry, “Ask him! It's him that's done it. You saw what he wrote on the wall! Besides, he knows I'm -- I'm a Squib.”

“It's not true, sir! I swear! I never touched Mrs. Norris -- And I don't even know what a Squib is.” Harry states. 

“A muggle born from wizards.” I explain quickly.

“That’s bloody rubbish, he didn’t know! He saw my Kwikspell letter!”

“If I might, Headmaster…” Snape pitches in, seemingly appearing out of the shadows. “Perhaps Potter and his friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time…” The others blink in surprise, and Snape goes on, “However, the circumstances are suspicious. I, for one, don't recall seeing Potter at dinner.”

“I'm afraid that's my doing, Severus. You see, Harry was helping me answer my fan mail…” Snape looks at Lockhart with a face of disgust and the DADA teacher trails off. 

“That’s why we went looking for him.” Hermione explains, “We’d just found him when Harry said…” She trails off much like her idol. 

“Yes, Ms. Granger?” Snape asks, an eyebrow raised.

I'm about to cover for her but I get cut off. "When I said I wasn't hungry. We were heading back to the Common Room and... found Mrs. Norris.” Harry lies. Snape can tell he’s lying, as does Dumbledore, and they both eye him.  _ Should've just let me lie, idiot. _

“Innocent until proven guilty.” Dumbledore decides.

“My cat has been Petrified! I want to see some punishment!” Filch objects.

“We will be able to cure her, Argus. As I understand it, Madam Sprout has a very healthy growth of Mandrakes. When they have matured, a potion will be made which will revive Mrs. Norris. In the meantime, I advise caution. To all.” Dumbledore says, grimly. 

“Mr. Hedrich, I need a hand with something. The rest of you, off to bed.” Snape says, then looks at Hermione with fake distaste. “He’ll be up momentarily.” I look down and see that Hermione is still holding my hand, and I feel a blush creep onto my face, I squeeze her hand gently before she lets go and I smile softly at her before heading off after Snape, “I take it that you two still aren’t together?”

“We’re just friends.”

“Mhmm, if you say so.” Snape opens the door, “Sorry I couldn’t make your party.” He says, closing the door, “I would’ve lost credibility in the persona I’ve built up all these years, but I wanted to give you this.” He grabs something from under his desk and plots it on one of the tables. I open it to find an old pocket watch, a snake insignia on it. “It was my father’s before it was mine, and his father’s before that. I won’t have a kid to give it down to, so I wanted you to have it.” He turns away, “I know it isn’t as… glamorous as it could’ve been, but I think-”

"I love it." I say. He turns, "Thank you."

For the first time in… I think ever, he has a full-fledged smile on his face. “You’re welcome.” He says. I move to leave, “Oh,” I stop, “I bought you and Granger’s book yesterday. It was exquisite, especially for young authors such as yourself and Hermione. It's amazing, you two have chemistry together I almost everything you do."

I blush, “Thanks, Professor Snape.” He nods and I rush toward Gryffindor room, getting through and spotting Hermione with a book, under our blanket watching a movie on the sofa with Shakespeare in her lap as she waits. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” She says, “You weren’t long.” 

“No, it was something quick.”

“Stop.” The movie disappears, “Well come on then, this won’t finish itself.” I smile before I join her on the couch. After a few minutes of her reading, I’m back on her shoulder. “I like you a lot, Sammy.”

“I like you too, Golden. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”  _ Did I just -- fuck. _

“...yeah.” She looks back at the book and sighs, “Yeah.”


	15. Harry's Fall

After McGonagall’s class, Ron and Harry were convinced that Draco is the heir of Slytherin, me and Hermione, however…

Not so much.

I mean, doesn’t it all seem -- I don’t know -- too perfect? Too easy? I don't know. Anyway, we are in the library. I sit with Ron and Harry as Hermione comes back with the book.

“Here it is: 'The Polyjuice Potion. Properly brewed, the Polyjuice Potion allows the drinker to transform himself temporarily into the physical form of another...'”

“You mean, Harry and I drink some of this stuff and we turn into Crabbe and Goyle?” Ron inquires.

“No. She means if you drink it, you’ll turn into a fucking alligator.” I reply sarcastically.

“Yes.” Hermione says after a second, “To you, Ron, not Sammy.”

“Wicked! Malfoy'll tell us anything!”

“Exactly. But it's tricky. I've never seen a more complicated potion. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed. And, of course, we'll need a bit of whoever we want to change into too.”

“Hang on now. I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it.” Ron objects.

“How long will it take to make?” Harry asks.

“A month.” Hermione answers, frowning.

“A month? But if Malfoy is the heir of Slytherin... he could attack half the Muggleborns in the school by then.”

“Glasses, she’s aware of what it entails. She’s Hermione.” I say, “If it works like she says it will, I’m willing to wait a month.” Hermione nods at me and I nod back.

“Bold of you to say, you don’t have to drink it.” Ron replies. I shrug.

  
  


It’s finally the day of the season’s first Quidditch game, and I’m excited beyond belief. I stand to the left of Hermione. Opposite me stands Hagrid and to his left stands Ron. When the ref blows the whistle, I learn absolutely nothing as students fly after a big red ball and a couple others attack a smaller black ball. while Harry stays static.

“Anyone know what’s going on?” Nothing. “Well shit.” Ron takes Hagrid’s binoculars to look at the spectators’ box. Soon Slytherin has a ninety to thirty lead, and I’m completely lost. The black ball is chasing Harry, and I think it takes out a Gryffindor, I can’t really tell because they’re just dots in the distance.

“Blimey, Harry's got 'imself a Rogue Bludger!” Hagrid grunts.

“A rogue Bludger?” Ron asks.

“Look fer yerself! It's bin' tampered with!” 

“I’ll stop it!”

Ron lifts his wand as if to do something but Hermione blocks it, “You're joking, right? Even with a proper wand, it's too risky. You could hit Harry.” She looks directly at me.

“Jokes on you, my aim is practically perfect.” Now Harry’s chasing something going head to head with Draco, …and they’re underneath the arena. Brilliant.

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun.” Hermione notes.

“I’m not.” I admit, “I’d rather stick to baseball.” 

She smiles just as Draco is launched into the air and onto the field. Harry flies up and out, chases something again, reaches out to grab it as the- I guess it’s called a bludger- smashes into his arm, forcing him to change hands and after a few more seconds, he joins Draco on the ground. “Let’s go!” Me, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid rush to the field as the announcer calls out Gryffindor as winners… for some reason and the ball continues trying to kill Harry, narrowly missing him three times before Hermione pulls out her wand, “ _ Finite Incantatem! _ ” The ball explodes as we rush over Harry, Lockhart joining us on the field.

“Not to worry, Harry. I'll fix that arm of yours straight away.” Lockhart exclaims.

“No... no… not you.” Harry groans. 

“Poor boy doesn't know what he's saying. This won't hurt a bit…” He does a movement with his wand, “ _Brackium Emendo!_ ” and Harry’s arm goes limp, like it were made out of rubber. A look of horror crosses my face. “Ah. Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. The point is, the bones are no longer broken.”

“Broken?! There aren’t any at all!” I shout, he looks down, “Are you even a real wizard?!”

“Well, he’ll be much more flexible.” Lockhart says, as he practically fold’s Harry’s hand back, prompting a wretch from me. We follow Hagrid as he takes Harry to the infirmary. Malfoy’s already there, groaning as if he’d been shot. 

“Oh Mr. Malfoy quit making such a fuss, you can go!” Madam Pomfrey says. Then she gives me a smile, I am a familiar face around these parts, after all. “He should have been brought straight to me! I can mend bones in a heartbeat -- but growing them back --”

“You’ll be able to do it, won’t you?” Hermione asks, I feel her hand grip mine as if for security.

“I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful. You're in for a rough night, Potter. Regrowing bones is nasty business.” She gives Harry a cup of liquid which he drinks and spits out almost immediately. “Well, what did you expect -- pumpkin juice?” Suddenly there’s a flash and I look at Colin.  _ I’m starting to see why Ron doesn’t like him.  _ Hermione looks down at our hands and quickly lets go. “Out! All of you! This boy's got thirty-three bones to regrow!” 

I put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Good luck.” I say. He nods.

  
  


The next day, we sit in one of the girls’ bathrooms. The one with Moaning Myrtle. The only reliably empty place in the school. As Hermione adds stuff into the cauldron, Harry tells us of what he heard last night.

“Again? You mean, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?”

“Of course! Don't you see? Lucius Malfoy must've opened it when he was at school here, and now he's told Draco how to do it.” Ron explains.  _ No. Draco’s motives are domination, not murderous. Yet at least.  _

“Maybe. We'll have to wait for the Polyjuice Potion to know for sure.” She nods at me as if to say that she’s got my back.

“Enlighten me. Why are we brewing this potion in broad daylight, in the middle of a girls' lavatory? Don't you think we'll get caught?” Ron asks

“No. Me and Golden put a lot of thought into this. This, statistically speaking, is the best place to break the rules.”

“Why?” Ron asks.

“Moaning Myrtle.” Me and Hermione say at the same time.

“Who’s Moaning Myrtle?” Ron asks, more confused. Out of nowhere, Myrtle wails and comes out of the wall, meeting face-to-face with Ron.

“I'm Moaning Myrtle. I wouldn't expect you to know me. Who would ever talk about fat, ugly, miserable, moping, moaning Myrtle?” She wails before flying into the air and into her toilet.

“I think she likes you.” I note.

“Sorry, she’s a little… sensitive.” Hermione smiles weakly.

  
  


Dueling club with Mr. Lockhart… 

Do you see the issue here? We’re forced to see the most incompetent teacher I ever witnessed (and that includes  **America** ) teach us how to duel other wizards. Me and Hermione sit together and she swoons over him, which of course makes me jealous, but I can tell that something’s off. She sighs, but not that  _ ‘I want you’  _ sigh I usually hear, instead it’s a much more annoyed one. With me? I hope not.  _ Come on, dude, she’s your friend. Get your head in the game! _

“Gather round! Gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent. In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions -- for full details, see my published works.” I groan. “Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape. He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!”

“Oh, I can’t wait for Snape to school this idiot.” I close my fist around the watch he gave me, it’s a habit I’ve picked up since he gifted it to me. He comes onto the stage, makes eye contact with me and nods. Hermione looks at me. She smiles a bit. Is it just me or does she have the same look as she had when… no it’s gotta be me. She notices I’ve caught her staring and stares longer to assert dominance, just like I do. I smile before Lockhart speaks once more.

“As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.” He takes a stance, “One-two-three --”

“ _ Expelliarmus! _ ” A scarlet light explodes out of Snape’s wand, launching Lockhart across the room and his wand through the air.

“HA!” I practically shout.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Hermione asks, with a strange lack of real emotional investment.

“Who cares?” Ron replies. 

“An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy…” 

“Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor.” Snape replies lamely as if he doesn’t want to be there.

“An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape. Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley, how about you?”

They are both about to climb on stage when Snape speaks again, “Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house. Malfoy, perhaps.” Malfoy climbs onstage as Snape and Lockhart leave the battle area. The two young wizards bow begrudgingly, and trash talk a bit on their way down.

“Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent -- only to disarm. We don't want any accidents. One, two --” Malfoy attacks early as a burst of white light knocks Harry off of his feet.

Harry grits his teeth and jumps back to his feet. “ _ Rictusempra! _ ” He shouts as a burst of silver light knocks Draco back even further.

“I said disarm only!” Lockhart shouts.

“ _ Serpensortia! _ ” Draco hisses and from his wand shoots a long black snake.

“Don't move, Potter. I'll get rid of it for you.” Snape grunts.

“Allow me, Professor Snape!” Lockhart cheers. “ _ Olate Ascendere! _ ” The snake flies into the air and in front of a kid, I’m about to make a move when Harry speaks, in parseltongue. I freeze. 

“ _ Evara Evenestra. _ ” Snape says before flicking his wand at the snake, that disintegrates almost immediately.

The boy has a terrified look on his face, “What are you playing at?” He asks, backing away. Everyone is silent. 

“Come on Glasses.” I grunt, getting him off the stage. We all walk back to the dorms together.

“You're a Parselmouth?! Why didn't you tell us?” Ron demands.

“I'm a what?”

“You can talk to snakes.” Hermione explains. 

“I know. I mean, I accidentally set a python on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once. But so what? I bet loads of people here can do it.” Harry waves off.

“No. They can't. It's not a very common gift, Harry. This is bad.”

Harry looks dumbfounded, “What's bad? If I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin --”

“Oh!” Ron cuts him off, “That’s what you said.”

“You were there, you heard me!” 

I sigh, “No we didn’t, Glasses. We heard you speaking parseltongue.” He makes a confused face, “In latent terms, you were speaking snake.”

“I spoke a different language? But I didn't realize -- how can I speak a language without knowing I can?”

“I don't know, Harry. But it sounded like you were egging the snake on or something. It was... creepy.” The other Gryffindors come in and pass in silence. Hermione grows even more serious, “Harry, listen out me. There's a reason the symbol of Slytherin house is a serpent. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. He could talk to snakes too.”

“Exactly. And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great grandson or something.” Ron adds.

“But I'm not. I... can't be.”

Hermione sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder, “He lived a thousand years ago. For all we know... you could be.”

I spent the night awake without so much as a wink of sleep. I sit on the couch, scratching Shakespeare behind her ears as I catch up on wrestling, namely Shawn Michaels’ and Triple H’s feud leading up to that point. I feel drained. Soon I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders, followed by a whisper that sends shivers down my spine.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” I say. Hermione joins me on the couch, then grabs her wand.

“ _ Expergiscere Somnolentus. _ ” She flicks the wand at me and the drowsiness disappears. “It’s not good to rely on that, because your brain needs sleep, so make sure you sleep tonight, okay?” I nod. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” 

“I’m… stressed. About Harry. He’s in trouble, Hermione. Real trouble.”

“I know.” She nods, I look at the snow raining down outside and frown, knowing that Mom’s anniversary is nearing. “I know that Christmas will be hard for you, especially after last year, but I want to make your Christmas better.” 

“You will. All you need to do is be there.” She nods and I hug her. “I don’t know how many times I’ve said this, Golden, but you’re awesome.”

She looks me in the eyes, “You are too.”


	16. Another Terrible Christmas

We watch people leave from a balcony, they avoid us. Of course they do. They think one of us is the heir of Slytherin and the rest of us are nuts to trust him. Who knows, maybe they’re right. No, don’t think like that, Sam. Even if Harry were the heir, he couldn’t be doing this, could he? No. No he couldn’t. It has to be someone else. I sigh as people pass, the four of us are halves again. Me and Hermione. Harry and Ron. I just realized that I don’t really know either Ron or Harry. I mean, I know them, but I don’t  _ know  _ them. Maybe that’s by my own choice. Hemione, on the other hand, I know her better than almost anyone. I clutch Snape’s watch and close my eyes. 

It’s funny, I don’t know who knows me better, the girl of my dreams or the most hated man in the school.

The post came and called me and Hermione’s book the best-selling of the last decade, outnumbering a lot of Lockhart’s books in sales and staying in the number one spot for sixteen weeks, number two being Magical Me. 

Ironically Lockhart’s jealous of me. He has the one one thing I wish I had, Hermione’s heart, to have it, I’d give everything I have up. I’d even give up my magic. Dad thinks she wants to be with me. Of course he does. He’s never found trouble getting girls to like him. Call me what you wll, I don’t find any other girl on Earth attractive. I don’t feel this warm and fuzzy around anyone else, yet…

_ I like you a lot, Sammy. _

I fumbled it.

“Make way for the Heir of Slytherin! Seriously evil wizard coming through!” Ron’s brother Fred (or George?) teases. I frown and Harry wears a look of outrage.

“Oh, c'mon, Harry. Fred's just having a laugh.” Ron explains.

“He's the only one.” Harry spits.

“Okay, so half the school thinks you're nipping off to the Chamber of Secrets every night. Who cares?” Ron protests.

“Maybe they're right.” Harry whispers.

“Harry!” Hermione scolds.

“I didn't know I could speak Parseltongue. What else don't I know about myself? Maybe you can do something... even something horrible... and not know you did it.”

“Harry, I’m supposed to be the crazy one.” I grunt, “You didn’t do it, and you don’t believe you did either..”

“If it makes you feel better, I just heard Malfoy's staying over for holiday, too.” Hermione tries.

“Why would that make anyone feel better?” Ron demands.

“I second that.” I decree.

“Because, in a few days, the Polyjuice Potion will be ready. In a few days... we may truly know who is the Heir of Slytherin.” Hermione states. I can tell that she doesn’t really believe this, she’s saying it to cheer Harry up, which I respect. We walk back inside and Ron and Harry separate. I get a chance to look at Hermione. Snow in her hair,the Gryffindor scarf tied around her neck, the gloves that are a size too big. “Let me guess, you like this?”

“...Maybe.” My face heats up. 

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” She teases. “You’ve been acting kinda weird, Sammy, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” I say, “Just… I’ve got a lot on my mind. Christmas is coming.” 

She grabs me by the tie and pulls me in for a kiss on the cheek. “You’re strong, but you can always talk to me, okay?”

“...Yeah. I’m sorry, I need to help Snape with something.” I rush off.  _ How did it just get so hard to be near her so fast? Why does my heart feel like it’s doing jumping jacks, my mind is racing at a thousand miles an hour. I can’t think about anything else.  _ I walk into Snape’s classroom and slam the door shut. 

“Who the he- oh, Sammy. Have a seat.” I do. He locks the door. “Sammy, you don’t look so good.”

“Snape, I think--”

“Yes?”

“I’m in love with Hermione.”

“Okay… now that you’ve admitted it to yourself, she obviously likes you, so you ask her out and tell her how you feel.”

“I screwed it up. I told her that I only liked her as a friend. Besides, she likes Lockhart.”

“Aren’t you the smartest person alive? A crush and a romance are two different things, Sammy.” Snape shrugs, “Do you think Lockhart really has her heart after endangering student after student? Even if he did, we know that the admiration is superficial.” He shrugs, “But you, I could tell from the moment you stood up to me for her that you two were destined to be together. Then you almost gave your life to keep her safe, twice. If she says she doesn’t like you, Sammy, she’s lying.”

“Thanks Snape.” I say.

“You’re welcome.” He stands, “Before you so rudely interrupted, I was in the middle of making some hot chocolate and watching Rankin and Bass films.” He says, “Would you like to watch these with me?” 

“No. If Malfoy bursts in, it’ll be harder to explain. You’ve gotta keep the rep.” 

“I suppose…” Snape mutters, then he shrugs. “This is some homemade peppermint hot chocolate for you to share with her.” He holds out a metal thermos, “Don’t worry, I just use that to pour my drinks.” I nod and take it before I think another random thought that my dumbass blurts out.

“Why don’t you like Harry?” I ask.

He looks at me sadly for a moment. “It’s a long story that I’ll tell you some other time.” He whispers, before sighing. 

“Okay.”

“Don’t forget that you’re always welcome in my classroom.” 

“Thank you, Professor.” I close the door. I find Hermione in the courtyard, sitting on a bench, shivering. “Hey, Golden. You okay?”

“I thought you had to help Snape.” 

I sit next to her and pull her into a tight hug. “Yeah, I finished fast again.” I offer her the thermos. “It’s mint cocoa.” I offer. She opens it and drinks a long sip.

“That’s really good.” 

“Yeah?” I take the bottle from her hands for a moment and take a drink myself, before handing it back to Hermione.  _ Say what you will about Snape, he makes some  _ **_damn_ ** _ good cocoa.  _ “Shit, it’s fucking great!” Hermione smiles and shakes her head. 

“You curse a lot.” She notes. 

I smile, “Yeah.”

“I like it.” She takes another drink as the snow falls over us. “I love Winter.”

“I prefer Fall.” I shrug.

  
  


Soon, it’s Christmas Eve. I wake up feeling awful. After rubbing the back of my head and doing hygiene, I leave The Gryffindor Dorm. My hands are numb. I walk about halfway down the hall before a searing pain shoots through my head and I stumble, ending up on my hands and knees. Memories of Mom flood in.  _ No, no, Come on Sam, not now! _

She’s been gone for a year.

I try to hold back my emotion, but with one sob, it’s all released. There I am, on my hands and knees in the hall, bawling my eyes out. Someone else comes out of Gryffindor and I hear footsteps coming towards me and feel a small hand place itself on the small of my back. Hermione. I don’t want her to see me like this, like a scared little pup who’s been kicked one too many times. Why do I feel like this now? I’ve been like this twice before... I feel myself burning up. 

Why do the best people have to suffer?

Why did He kill Mom in the worst way possible?

Why can’t I stop being miserable?

“Come on, Sammy, you’ll be okay. Shh, shh, shh, I’m right here. Let it all out.” I’m still too vulnerable for a relationship. I’ll just drag her down with me. Eventually, my body ceases shaking and the sobs soften. I get onto my knees and she pulls me into a warm hug. “Are you okay?”

_ Am I? _

“I don’t know.” 

She smiles sadly at me. “That’s fine.” 

After that, we spend the day together, we even start brainstorming ideas for a new book. The Fallen Empire. It’s going to be a post-apocalyptic thriller with, as per Hermione’s terms, romance.  _ Romance just makes me want her more.  _ But now it’s feast time. A feast I missed last year. We sit at the table, me and Hermione across from Harry and Ron. 

“Everything's set. We just need a bit of who you're changing into.” Hermione says after a while.

“Crabbe and Goyle.” Harry nods.

“And we also need to make sure that the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating Malfoy.”

“How?” Ron asks.

“We’ve got that covered.” I say as Hermione pulls out the cakes. “Hermione made a sleeping draught that I mixed into the batter. Shit’s strong enough to knock out an elephant.”

We look at the two boys who are about to be fooled “You know how greedy Crabbe and Goyle are. They won't leave the Christmas Feast until every last drop of trifle is gone.” We focus back on our table, “Now, once they're asleep, hide them in a broom cupboard and pull out a few of their hairs.”

“And whose hair are you ripping out?” Ron asks.

“I’ve already got mine.” Hermione says, showing off a phial with a small hair in it. “Millicent Bulstrode. She's in Slytherin. I got this off her robes.” She stands proudly. “Alright then... I'm going to check on the Polyjuice Potion. Remember. Just make sure Crabbe and Goyle find these.” She walks off.

“I think your girlfriend’s gone mad Sam.” Ron mutters.

“Not my girlfriend.”

“Even still, have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?” 

“They won’t if you stick to it.” I grunt, “I’m going to catch up with her. Good luck.” I walk through the school stealthily and join her in the bathroom. She’s stirring up the cauldron. “God, that smells awful.” She jumps before ‘glaring’ at me.

“You scared me half to death!” She hisses.

“Well, as the old saying goes, it’s all fair in love and war.” She deciphers it immediately so I shift onto another topic, “So, our book is still number one.”

“That’s good. Lockhart’s is number two then?”

“Actually it’s down to five right now.” 

“That’s good.”

“Did you just subtly insult your favorite teacher?”

“Maybe…”

“I thought you had a crush on him… or something.”

“I did.” She admits before looking at me, “But I realized that I like someone else  **_way_ ** more than I like him.” She turns as friends three and four join us, “Did you get it?” She asks. The boys hold up their tufts of hair. She points at the Slytherin robes on the ground. “I sneaked those out of the laundry.” They nod and have a look at Hermione’s concoction, both of them making faces. “I'm sure I've done everything right. It looks like the book said it should. Once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly one hour before we change back into ourselves.”

“Now what?” Ron gulps. 

“We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs.” All three of them drink it and drop the glasses. Ron and Hermione run off to the toilets to throw up. Harry doesn’t, he looks in the mirror as his skin starts to bubble and morph until he looks exactly like Goyle. Ron comes out looking like Crabbe. 

“Harry?” ‘Crabbe’ asks. 

“Ron?” ‘Goyle’ responds.

“Bloody hell.” Ron says, amazed.

“We still sound like ourselves. You need to sound more like Crabbe.”

Ron adjusts his voice, “Bloody hell.”

“Excellent.” Harry compliments.

“Hey... Where's Hermione?”

“I -- I don't think I'm going. You go on without me.” she calls.

“Hermione, are you okay?” Harry asks.

“Just go!” She snaps, “You’re wasting time!” 

The boys rush out leaving me and Hermione. Well I guess I’m a boy too now that I think on it, but whatever. “Hey Golden, you okay?” 

“Do I sound okay, Sammy?”

“What happened?”

“I screwed up.”

“We all screw up.”

“Not like this.”

“Golden, I have made lapses in judgement and miscommunications that have gotten people hurt, some killed, because of my thought experiments. You’re the smartest person I know, how bad could a mistake be if you’re the one making it?” Nothing. “Mistakes aren’t a bad thing, they teach you to be more careful.” She’s silent. “Fine, you don’t wanna show me. Okay.” I shrug, “But I’m staying right here until you get out.” 

I sit down across from her stall and after about forty minutes, she speaks, “Do you promise not to laugh?”

“Scout’s honor.”

She slowly opens the door and reveals her transformation into a cat… thing with a disappointed look on her face. “Well?”

“Well… you did screw up.” I shrug, “But it’s not the end of the world. It’ll still only last an hour, right?” She shrugs. “Well even if it doesn’t, worst case scenario, I’ll always have your back.” She smiles. “Now come here.” She reluctantly obliges and I hug her, stroking her hair… head… fur… whatever as she purrs into my ear. “Well, this Christmas kinda sucks, huh?” We laugh.

“I don’t know, maybe it’ll get better.” she hums.

“This feels really good for you doesn’t it?”

“What would you do if I said yes?”

“Do it more.” 

“…yeah.”

I continue to softly caress her until I hear Ron and Harry and she pushes me away before returning to the stall and locking the door. “That was close.” Harry gasps, then he sees my robe, “Oh, your cat did a number on you. I didn’t even notice. Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah.”

“Hermione!” Ron calls, “Come out, we’ve got loads to tell you!”

“Go away!” Hermione shouts.  _ Wait, why hasn’t she changed back yet? _

Moaning Myrtle appears from the wall, “Ooh, wait till you see. It's awful!” She cheers gleefully.

“Charming, you were bullied so you become a bully yourself.” She scowls at me before stepping aside. “Hermione, we’re all friends, come on. It isn’t even that bad.” She sighs and unlocks the door, I push it open.

“Do you remember me telling you the Polyjuice Potion was only for human transformations?” You can see the fur and ears even in the dim light. She steps forward to reveal herself to us. “It was cat hair I plucked off Millicent Bulstrode's robes! Look at my face!”

“It isn’t  _ that _ bad.”

“Look at your face? Look at your tail.” I can see that he’s about to laugh so I kick him in the shin. “Ow! Bloody hell, Sam, that hurt!” 

I look at Hermione who smiles weakly. “Tell us your news and I’ll take her to the nurse.” She looks at me, “I doubt that you wanna parade around Gryffindor looking like that. Don’t worry. I’ll be with you the entire time.” I grab her hand. 

“Okay, we learned that it wasn’t Malfoy, he doesn’t have any idea who it could be.” Harry says.

“Good. Ron?” 

“He said more stuff about Hermione, and he called you an obnoxious twat.”

I shrug, “The insults out here are weak. Come to New York, and you get fifty out the gate just for wearing a hat, all of them worse than ‘twat.’” I laugh, “Well come on Hermione, let’s try to salvage what’s left of Christmas.” I pull her out of the stall. “Do you want to… you know… cover your head?” 

“Yeah.” She whispers. I take off my robe and give it to her. She wears it over her head and after walking for a time, we run into someone. “Snape.”

“Granger? Hedrich? What’re you two doing out of your dorms? And what’s that on your head?!” He takes my robe off of her head and looks dead at her. “Ah. Meddling in things you shouldn’t?”

“It was my fault, I made a miscalculation and Shakespeare got hair in the cauldron. She agreed to be my test subject.” I pin on myself.

“I can’t take points away for curiosity and as this seems to be an emergency, I will only be taking two points away from Gryffindor. I assume you made a Polyjuice Potion?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh dear, how’d you get the ingredients?”

“Dad?” 

“I’ll be checking with him later. As for now, this will stay between us.” And he walks off.

“That was weird.” Hermione mutters, pulling the robe back over her head.

“That’s life.” I shrug. We find Madam Pomfrey just as she’s about to leave. “Hey! Wait!” She turns and smiles at me. Hermione takes the robe off of her head and Pomfrey’s jaw drops, “It was an accident. I was making a recipe, she agreed to try it, long story short, I messed up at some point and made a Polyjuice Potion, she tried it and this happened. Snape already got me.”

“Well, let’s take her in, then. I have a potion that will fix this, but I’m guessing that it’s been over an hour?” We both nod. “Then there’s no telling how long this will take.” She sighs. “Follow me.” She takes us into a room, and pulls up curtains around the bed. Suddenly something appears in my hand. It’s Snape’s thermos. There’s even a note.

_ She’ll be able to drink this, she only looks like a cat, she processes food like a human, still. I made this for you two to share in case it gets cold. Merry Christmas. -Snape _

I put the note in my pocket and Hermione sighs, “I promised you a great Christmas. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I whisper, pulling out my wand, “Put on: The Santa Clause.” A screen comes on and I pull out my Nokia, “Hey Uncle Lancelot? It’s Samuel.”

“Like New York Samuel?”

“Yes. I was wondering if you still offer that thing of chocolate chip cookies?” 

“Yeah! Want me to deliver to Hogwarts?”

“Yes, the infirmary. That girl dad’s told you about is sick and I’m spending time with her.”

“Oh, okay! Anything else?”

“Do you have two mugs?”

“You’d bet your ass I do! I’ll be there in ten.” 

“Wait how much- and he’s gone. Shit.” I enlarge the screen when suddenly, in comes Lancelot Carpilla with a bucket of cookies in one hand and two mugs in the other. “How did you-”

“It’s in the ad, ten seconds or less.” I pull out a pouch of gold and he raises his hand as if to stop me, “It don’t cost you nothing. You’re family.” He nods. “Anyway, see you, boss.” And he’s gone, the stuff left at the foot of the bed. I fill the mugs with cocoa and put the bucket between us. Soon, we’re watching Tim Allen and chowing down while she’s in the infirmary for turning into a cat. If that ain’t the spirit of Christmas, I don’t know what is.


	17. Petrified

Tomorrow I get to take Hermione out of the infirmary, it’s been two weeks. I took notes for the classes she missed and I made sure to stay for two to three hours a day, she needed a friendly face. Of course Ron and Harry made the occasional drop in, but she must’ve taken on a few catlike characteristics, because now she always wants a head rub, I make sure to oblige when my hands don’t ache from writing two sets of notes. I remember one visit of mine vividly, I had found a bouquet of flowers in the trash, after she had drifted off. The note read: 

_ To Miss Granger. Wishing you a speedy recovery! From your concerned teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart. _

I smiled at her and decided to spend the night. Which I then did for three consecutive nights. Now it’s Saturday. Her tail has finally disappeared and she’ll be ready to move soon. Over this time, I’ve gotten a lot of writing done for our book. The first one, after a twenty week stay, has fallen down to number five, and this book feels even better than the last one. Harry and Ron burst in with a little black book, causing me to hit a wrong key. I sigh in frustration before setting my typewriter down. I clutch Snape’s watch.

“There’s a name in this diary.” Hermione says, “Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“Tom Marvolo Riddle?” Ron asks, taking the book, “I know that name… Of course! The night I had detention... My job was to polish the silver in the trophy room. I remember because I kept burping slugs all over Tom Riddle's trophy. I must have wiped slime off his name for an hour.”

“What was the trophy for?” Harry asks. 

“Special Services to the School or something -- fifty years ago?”

“Fifty years ago! Are you sure?” Hermione asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t you remember what Malfoy told you?” Hermione asks, “The last time the Chamber was opened was--”

“Fifty years ago.” Harry recalls, “That means-”

“Tom Riddle was here, at Hogwarts, when it happened. What if he wrote about what he saw? It's possible he knew where the Chamber was, how to open it, even what sort of creature lives in it. If so, whoever's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want this diary lying around, would they?”

“That's a brilliant theory, Hermione. With just one tiny little flaw. There's nothing written in this diary.” Harry shows the pages and I groan. “Sam, I might need your help tonight. You are the best student in the school-- behind Hermione, you might be able to help me figure this out.”

“I-”

“It’s okay, Sammy, I’ll be fine alone for a night. Give me our book so far, I’ll read through that.” I sigh and hand it to her. She takes it and smiles. “This’ll keep me occupied.”

“Good. Be safe tonight.”

“No promises.” She jokes. I bend down quickly and kiss her on the cheek. She gets all red and flustered after that, which I always find cute and I leave with the boys. Again being a boy myself, that sounds weird, but trust me, it makes sense. 

  
  


Me and Harry sit in the common room, exhausted from looking at this diary for hours to no avail, a ghost reading and humming at a loud volume next to me. Harry snaps first, “Do you mind?!” The ghost walks away with pride. Shakespeare purrs as I rub my knuckle over her chin then she knocks over the thing of ink. Harry quickly picks it up as she struts proudly away.

“Sorry about that.” I grunt.

“It’s fine, the book’s rubbish any-” The ink spill disappears after seemingly responding to his friend. Harry gets excited and dips his pen in what’s left of the ink before writing out, ‘My name is Harry Potter."

The paper scrawls out a phrase of its own. ‘Who’s your friend?’

‘Samuel Hedrich.’

‘I knew his father…’ Then beneath it, ‘I am Tom Riddle.’

Harry pauses a moment before writing, ‘Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell us?’

‘No, but I can show you.’ After a few seconds, we are in the entrance hall of Hogwarts everything seems faded.

“What the hell?” I whisper, then there’s a boy at the end of the hall, peering around the corner. Harry flags him down, “Glasses, wait up!”

“Hey, do you know where we are?” He doesn’t respond. “Hello?”

“He can’t hear you.” I say, “This is a memory.” We watch quietly as a stretcher holding a covered body is anchored past us.

“Riddle.” A familiar voice says, me and Harry both shoot our heads up and see the speaker, Dumbledore.

“Professor Dumbledore.” Tom greets.

“It's not wise to be wandering around this late, Tom.”

“Yes, Professor. I suppose I -- I just had to see for myself, if…” He freezes for just a second, “…the rumors were true.”

“I’m afraid they are, Tom.” Dumbledore sighs.

“About the school as well? They wouldn't really close Hogwarts, would they, Professor?” Tom sounds pleading, but… 

_ It feels manufactured. _

“Headmaster Dippet may have no choice, I'm afraid.”

“Sir? If it all stopped. If the person responsible was caught…"

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Tom?” Dumbledore asks.

Tom looks away.  _ He did it.  _ “No, sir. Nothing.”  _ I don’t care who he accuses. It was him. _

“Very well then. Hurry along.” Dumbledore walks past us and Riddle runs for the dungeon door. We follow Riddle and hear a voice in the dungeons. 

“C'mon, Aragog. Gotta get yeh outta here... C'mon now.. in the box…” We see that the boy is Hagrid and hear a clicking from the box. 

“Evening, Hagrid.” Riddle greets, Hagrid slams the cage shut. “I'm going to have to turn you in, Hagrid. I don't think you meant it to kill anyone --”  _ This didn’t happen. At least, not like this.  _ The room has a fuzziness to it, that I can see immediately.

“No, yeh can't! Yeh don' understand!”

“Hagrid. The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered.”

“It wasn' him! Aragog never'd kill no one! Never!”

“Monsters don't make good pets, Hagrid. Now... stand aside…” Riddle blasts the door off of its hinges and a large spider-like creature scurries out. Riddle aims the wand at the spider, and Hagrid leaps at him, taking them both down as the spider escapes.

We fall back through the portal and ultimately end up back in our seats, with the book closed in front of us. “It was… Hagrid?” Harry asks.

“It couldn’t have been.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“The memory was fuzzy, that means it’s been tampered with. I learned how memory sharing works back in America, when it’s fuzzy, either we’re not getting the full story or--”

“He’s lying.” Harry mutters. “Still, it couldn’t have been him, right? He’s dead.”

“Well, right now, Hagrid is the only logical suspect.” I sigh, “Well let’s tell Ron.” We rush upstairs and shake Ron awake.

“What?” He groans.

“We know who might’ve done it!” Harry whisper-yells.

“Who?”

“Hagrid.” I sigh.

In the morning, we find Hermione in the hospital wing using my typewriter. I go in first. “Hey Golden, what are you writing?” 

“Just a bit more of the story.”

“Okay, I’ll read it over-”

“But I’m not done.”

“Fine, finish it and I’ll read it over.” I say. She smiles at me. I could drift away in that smile. “Also, me and Glasses found something in that diary. We have a suspect now.”

“Really? Who?”

“You’re gonna have to wait a bit longer. Let’s get you up first.” I take the typewriter and set it aside, before extending my hand. Hermione sighs and takes it, letting me pull her up and help her get used to walking again. She, of course, gets a hold of it fast and the boys join us. 

“Hey, Hermione, I forgot what it looked like to see you walk!” Ron laughs.

Harry smiles, “Yeah, it’s good to see Sam got you on your feet again.”

She blushes. “Thank you. Really, you guys don’t need to give me all of this attention. You’d think I’m famous or something.”

“I mean, technically you are.” Ron points out. “Your book with Sammy is in the library non-school related works only get in if the demand is ridiculous. I even saw some Slytherins reading it.”

“Good.” Hermione says.

“Hermione, we have… something to tell you.” Harry says at last.

“It can't be Hagrid. It just can't be!”

“He’s just a suspect right now, okay?” I try.

“All we know is that a monster killed someone and Hagrid was trying to get rid of a giabnt spider. There’s no telling where it is now.”

“Look. Hagrid's our friend. Why don't we just go ask him about it?” Hermione suggests.

Ron has a part-sneer, “That'd be a cheerful visit. ‘Hullo, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?’” 

“Mad an' hairy? Wouldn' be talkin' 'bou me, now would yeh?”

“No.” I say, “We’re talking about the spider infestation. Do you know anything about it?” 

Hagrid looks off, “No. No I don’.”

“Ron here squeals in the middle of the night and wakes the entire dorm up because of them.” Ron punches me rather hard and I rub that spot, “I deserved that.” I admit.

“We’ll get it under control.” Hagrid nods.

“What's that you've got, Hagrid?” Harry asks, referring to the strange canister beneath Hagrid’s arm. 

“Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent. Fer the Mandrakes, yeh know. Accordin' ter Professor Sprout, they still got a bit o' growin' up ter do, but once their acne clears up, we'll be able to chop 'em up, stew 'em, an' get those people in the hospital un-Petrified. 'Til then, you four best watch yerselves, alrigh'?” Hagrid lumbers off and Neville runs towards us, a copy of The Criminals tucked under his arm. 

“Harry, I don't know who did it, but... you'd better come.” Soon Ron, Harry, Hermione and I stand in the dorm room, where Harry’s space is trashed.

“Shit.” I whisper as Harry looks through the wreckage.

“It had to be a Gryffindor. Nobody else knows our password. Unless, it wasn't a student…” Hermione thinks aloud.

“Well, whoever it was, they were looking for something.” Ron sighs.

“And they found it… Tom Riddle’s diary is gone.” 

“Fuck.” I groan, “What now?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? The book’s gone, it couldn’t have been Hagrid, and if that thing could come out at any time, why didn’t it attack last year? That was our one shot, and we don’t know who took it!”

Hermione sighs, “Unfortunately, Hagrid is still the suspect. Sammy, come with me. Harry, Ron, we’ll be at the library.” They nod and we head out. When we’re in the hall, me and Hermione look each other in the eyes, “So… you don’t think it was Hagrid?”

“No. In fact, I’m positive that Tom Riddle opened the chamber.”

“How do you know?” 

“I’m me.” I shrug. We walk into the library and sit together, each with a pile of books on the history of Hogwarts. “I have a bad feeling.” She looks at me funnily. “Something bad’s about to happen… but I don’t know what.”

Hermione grabs my hand, “Hey, I’ll be fine.” Then she crinkles her and does an awful New York impression, “I’m me.” We burst into laughter, soon calming down with our faces just centimeters apart.  _ If I wanted to I could- _ I pull back, nervously.  _ You cowardly piece of shit.  _

“So… are you ready to get back to class?”

“…Yeah.” She says. “I bet McGonagall missed me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think Snape did.” 

“The only Gryffindor he’d miss is you. Your snarky comments are always the best part of that class.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You seem to know a lot about romance, right?” 

“Depends on what you ask.” 

“I have an idea for a short story I wanted to post online to get hype up for our new book, I wanted some advice. These two have been close friends for… going on two years? The boy fell in love with the girl the moment they met.” I sigh, “What would the boy do to make her like him back?”

“Well, in a lot of cases… she already does.” Hermione smiles at me. It’s forced. “I think that if he would confess… she’d tell him how she feels.” 

“…Maybe.” I sigh. We share a long silence as we look through the books, communicating in sighs and hums, ultimately finding nothing. I steal glances at her.  _ The small wrinkle that forms on her forehead, the eyes locked on the paper, the slight purse of her lips…  _ Once she catches my gaze, we stare at each other for a second, _ …even small things like the straightening of her back and the crossing of her legs…  _ She gives in first, biting her lip and looking back at the book. _ …Just make her that much more adorable _ . “It’s getting late.” I yawn.

“Yeah.” Hermione nods, “You go ahead, you need the sleep. I think that I have something.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes.” She pokes my forehead, “Now  _ you  _ need to go. You aren’t Superman.”

“I could be yours.”  _ Shit, I said that out loud. _

She raises a brow, “That’s a big job, don’t want you to be overwhelmed.” 

“I’m tougher than I look.”

“But you aren’t as tough as you act. You’re too cocky for your own good.” She giggles, before putting a soft kiss on my cheek, “That’s one of the best things about you.” I smile, “Now go, Superman. Save someone else.”

I smile at her. “Fine.” I groan, “I need sleep anyways, see you in class tomorrow.”

  
  


I didn’t. We went through Herbology without any sign of Hermione. Then Professor McGonagall’s class. Now I’m worried. Soon, we’re in Lockhart’s class. Harry’s excited about his game today, I don’t really care. I’m scared. For the second time in my life, that spine-chilling blade edge runs down my spine.  _ She’s gotta be safe, she’s gotta be safe, she’s gotta be- _

“May I borrow Mr. Hedrich? A voice asks. Snape. “There is an urgent matter that requires his immediate attention.” He tries his best to sound bored, but I hear, underneath it, just a hint of worry. 

“Of course Mr. Snape.” Lockhart says. “Sam, just make sure that you’ve memorized for the test.” I grunt in response and shuffle towards Snape. 

When we’re in the hall Snape doesn’t meet my eyes. “Sammy, you’re not gonna like this.” He whispers. I follow him to the infirmary and spot Hermione. Frozen. 

“No." I whisper, walking towards her bed. Flashbacks. I see her as Mom. Tears start to come to my eyes. I run my fingers through her hair, I touch her porcelain skin. “I failed you.”

“You didn’t fail her.” Snape whispers. “She made you leave the library to keep you safe from whatever did this to her.” I sniffle and grab her hand tightly, Snape’s hand rests on my shoulder. “I know how you must feel. Overtaken by rage, drowning in hatred, swimming in despair. The best I can do is assure you of her survival. She will survive this, the mandrakes will be ready within the week and I promise you that the Chamber of Secrets will be found and the monster that did this eradicated.” I desperately clutch onto Hermione’s hand wishing for any sign of life. Nothing. “I see that you need time alone. I will take my leave, but I do warn you, Potter and Weasley will be here soon.”

“Hermione. I don’t know if you can hear this, but I love you. Whoever did this to you… I’ll make them pay.” I stay still for a while.


	18. Fraud

I have been a shutout for the past week, going to class with no intention of working. I usually sit with my head down, neglecting myself. Today, I had an epiphany, if I let myself live for her, I’m not really living, am I? I have to live for myself. I take a breath and look at myself in the mirror, water from my hot shower moments ago dripping onto the bathroom floor. “Sammy, you’ve got to get a hold of yourself. I feel you giving in, you sonofabitch, who do you need to-” I freeze, thinking of the microphone. “Right. Mom.” I dry off, dress up and go to the dorm, grabbing my microphone and moving to a place where I won’t be bothered, the hall on the third floor. I flick the switch and a smoke picks up, when it clears, Mom is standing in front of me. 

“You look like crap.” She says, before starting to walk towards me. I’m speechless. She’s really here. Like she isn’t dead, like she never had cancer. “I saw what happened to your girlfriend.”

“She’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Not my girlfriend.’” She mocks playfully. “You’d make a great couple. If you’d get the stones to ask her.” 

I hug Mom, she’s really there. “I missed you so much.” I whisper.

“I know, I know, but it was my time. I was in so much pain, son. It felt like getting stomped on by an Irish giant every time I moved. I tried to beat it again, but I wasn’t strong enough.”

“You’re the strongest person I know.” I object.

“Sammy, I love you. I know how tough this is for you, but you’ve got to open up a bit. I’ll always exist in one form or another.” She touches my cheek. “You rely on others’ help to keep you alive. I love you, but you’re grown up now. Hermione’s given you the same affection I have, that care. A different kind of love than a mother’s for her son, but still. It’s time to put that chin up, Sammy. I don’t expect you to be over my passing, but I want you to see the color of the world like you used to. Be happy. Be the Sammy I raised.”

“I love you Mom.” 

“I love you too. Do you need me for anything else, Sammy?”

“No. Not right now.”

“Then I have to go.” She sighs, pulling me in for one last hug, then she disappears in a flash of light. I slowly move to stand up and leave, heading towards the cafeteria, where I find Harry and Ron. 

“Hey, man, you alright?” Harry asks.

“Honestly? Not right now, but I’ll be fine. Right now, I just need you two to fill me in.”

“Hagrid didn’t do it.” Ron says, “Yesterday, we found this in Hermione’s hand.” he pulls out a note. “'Of the many fearsome beasts that roam our land, none is more deadly than the Basilisk. Capable of living for hundreds of years, instant death awaits any who meet this giant serpent's eye. Spiders flee before it and only the crowing of the rooster can kill it.'”

“The monster that’s been attacking people is a snake, that’s why I could hear it.” Harry nods.

“But a basilisk kills people, why is no one dead?” I question.

“I asked that last night, Harry said it was because none of them directly looked him in the eyes. Colin saw it through his camera, Justin saw it through Nearly Headless Nick. Nick got the full blast of it, but he's a ghost, he couldn't die again.” Ron shrugs as Harry nods along, “Hermione had a mirror and Mrs. Norris had a puddle. It’s been using the plumbing to get around.”

Harry looks at me, directly in the eyes, “Remember the person who died fifty years ago? It was a girl. Ron and I suspect it might be Moaning Myrtle.”

“Oh, lovely. Doesn’t she still hate me?”

“Maybe.”

“Great.” I mutter. “So, when are we doing this?”

“Tonight.” Harry states. 

Right before we head out after visiting Hermione.  _ It’s so weird doing this without her.  _ We hear a voice over the intercom. “ **All students are to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers to the second floor corridor. Immediately.** ” 

“We going there?” I ask. They nod. We run to the second door corridor and hide close to the teachers.

“As you can see, the Heir of Slytherin has left another message. Our worst fear has been realized. A student has been taken by the monster into the Chamber itself.” McGonagall says, a worried tone in her voice. “I'm afraid we shall have to send the students home. I'm afraid... this is the end of Hogwarts.” I’ve never heard her so distraught.

Lockhart joins his fellow teachers with a cheery attitude, “So sorry. Dozed off. What have I missed?”

“Just the man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Your moment has come at last.” Snape says.  _ He’s my favorite. No contest. _

“My m-moment?”

“Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?” Snape questions.

“D-did I? I don't recall…”

“That settles it. We'll leave it to you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy. Your skills, after all, are legend.” McGonagall says, almost amused. Maybe it’s just me.

“V-very well. I'll -- I'll be in my office, getting -- getting ready.” Lockhart nods before rushing off.

“Who is it the monster's taken, Minerva?” Sprout asks.

“Ginny Weasley.” McGonagall all-but-whispers. Ron’s knees give way, and me and Harry catch him. I give him a look to ask if he’s okay, but he stares dead ahead, terrified. I read the message.

_ Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever. _

“Why her? She is a pure blood right?” I ask. Ron nods.

We walk along the halls towards Lockhart’s class. Eventually, Ron speaks, “She knew something, guys. She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That's why she was taken. I mean, she was -- is -- a pure-blood. There can't be any other reason.”

“C'mon. Let's go see Lockhart. He may be a brainless git, but he's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him what we know…”

“D-d’you guys think there’s any chance that she’s not -- y’know…”

“We’ll find her, I promise that she’ll be safe.” I assure. Ron lets a weak smile cross his lips as we enter Gilderoy’s classroom and climb the stairs to his office, his chests are open and being stuffed as we enter. “ _ Loquela Recordin. _ ” I murmur. The recording spell. I slam the door and he slams one shut. “Care to explain yourself, jackass?”

Lockhart glares at me, the pain in his neck, the bane of his existence, his biggest threat for the entire year. “Well… uh… Urgent call. Unavoidable. Got to go…”

“What about my sister?” Ron spits.

“Well, as to that -- most unfortunate. No one regrets more than I --”

“You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! You can't go now!” Harry snaps

“I must say, when I took the job, nothing in the job description --”

“You’re the one fucking teacher who’s  _ expected _ to step up. What’s with the change of heart? Hmm? Not the same guy that fought a village of werewolves?”

“Books can be misleading.”

“Yeah, sure, there’s a _ lot _ of room for interpretation in getting into a fist fight with the fucking Wolf Man.” I sarcastically growl, “Cut the shit, you fraudulent motherfucker.”

“You know, Samuel, you and your father have been up my ass for my writing for years. You’re a writer now, you should know those books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all…”

“You didn’t stretch the truth, you lied! You lied, you stole their memories and left their families to rot! If it wasn’t for my dad, they’d be ruined! Kids growing up without a father, my father giving all of his time to the people in need, so he came home to find his wife dead! The wives whose husbands don’t recognize them! The good men thrown in asylums for no good reason and called mental! But you don’t care do you?! You only care about yourself.”

Lockhart laughs, “You say it as if it wasn’t difficult for me. I had to track these people down and ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. No, it's not all book signings and publicity photos. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long, hard slog. Unless you just make up things on the fly.”

“There’s a difference between fiction and fraud.”

“Look,” Ron cuts in, “is there anything you  _ can _ do?”

“Yes, now that you mention it. I'm rather gifted with Memory Charms. Otherwise, you see, all those wizards would've gone blabbing and I'd never have sold another book, which is what Sam was referring to. I'm afraid I'll have to do the same to you lot, lest you do the same.” He attempts to pull his wand on us, but we beat him to the punch.

“Drop it!” Harry commands.

“Well well well, how the turntables…” I pause, “I fucked that up, didn’t I? Screw it! You’re coming with us.” I whisper a second spell to stop the recording as we leave the room.

  
  


We enter the bathroom to find Moaning Myrtle quietly sobbing as she hovers around the room. “Who's there? Oh…” She wears a flirty smile, “Hello, Harry. What do you want?”

“To ask you how you died.” I cringe. That’s the most disrespectful thing to do to a ghost, is ask them how they died, but Myrtle seems… flattered?

“Oooooh, it was dreadful. It happened right here. In this very cubicle. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in.”

“Who was it Myrtle?” Ron interrogates.

“I don't know! I was distraught!” She snaps, “But they said something funny. A kind of made-up language. And I realized it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go away, and... I died.”

“Just like that?” Harry asks, “How?”

“No idea. I just remember seeing a pair of great big yellow eyes. Over there…” She points to the sinks. 

“I always thought that design choice looked stupid.” I mutter. “Move it. Gilderoy.” I train my wand to the back of the professor’s head and walk towards the sink as Harry inspects them.

“This is it. This is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“Well, are we waiting for the pope?” I ask, sarcastically.

“Say something in parseltongue, Harry.” Ron encourages. 

Harry pauses before speaking in a hiss. The circle of sinks pull revealing a hole with a drop that leads to the Chamber of Secrets. “Excellent, Harry. Good work. Well then. I'll just be going. There's no need for me…” Lockhart attempts to escape, but Harry and Ron catch him and shove him in front. 

“Oh yes there is.” Harry says, wand drawn. “You first.” He points at the hole.

“Now, boys. What good will it do?” Lockhart whines.

“A bloody lot of good if it's a two-hundred-foot drop onto jagged rocks.” Ron responds, I nod and smirk. 

Lockhart begrudgingly steps forward and looks into the hole, legs shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Don’t be a pussy.” I grunt, before shoving him in, he screams the entire way down.

“It's really quite filthy down here.” I take off the jacket Hermione gave me bhefore nodding at Harry.

“Alright, let’s go.” Right before we jump, Myrtle stops us.

“Oh, Harry... if you die down there, you're welcome to share my toilet.”

“…Thanks, Myrtle.” He jumps in, then I do and Ron last as we slide through the pipes, ending up in a bunch of muck. Lockhart is assessing his robe miserably. “ _ Lumos! _ ” He calls, prompting his wand to light up like a torch. “Remember. Any sign of movement, close your eyes straight away.” We nod, before looking around at the hundreds of little skeletons littered over the ground. Just ahead of us, something long and curved, like a giant snake.

“What's that? Up ahead?” Ron croaks.

“That looks like a... snake.” Lockhart gulps before averting his eyes.

“…Maybe it’s asleep?” Harry suggests. We hesitantly approach the giant coil, Harry, me, Ron and Lockhart and discover that it’s just an empty shell.

“Bloody hell. Whatever shed this must be twenty feet long. Or more.” Ron says. Suddenly there’s a thump and we all turn to see that Lockhart has fainted, “Heart of a lion, this one.” The redhead mutters. Then Lockhart springs up and snatches Ron’s wand.

“The adventure ends here, boys! But don't fret. The world will know our story. How I was too late to save the girl. How you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. I'll even bind a limited edition in this snakeskin. Say goodbye to your memories.” I can’t help it and burst into laughter, “This is no laughing matter, Mr. Hedrich. What will that girl you love say? Hmm?” I continue to laugh. “Very well.  _ Obliviate! _ ” The spell backfires and launches him into the wall, then the cave starts falling apart, before a large wall of rocks cuts me and Harry off from Ron and Lockhart. 

“Ron! Are you okay?” Harry calls.

“I'm okay. This git's not, though. He got blasted by my wand.” I hear Lockhart start saying something only to be cut short. “What now?

“Wait here. We'll go on. We'll go on and... find Ginny. If we're not back in an hour…” He trails off and gives me a look. I nod.

“I'll try and shift some of this rock. So you can get back through. And, Harry --” Ron stops mid sentence.

“See you in a bit.” Harry says, walking away. I follow him through the darkness in silence, until we come upon a large stone wall, a circle is engraved in it, and several snakes decorate it, keeping it sealed like a vault. “Are you ready Sam?” 

“Call me Sammy.”

He smiles, “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’m getting, Glasses.” 

He hisses something in parseltongue and it opens, revealing a long corridor decorated with snake statues on either side until the back, where a statue of Slytherin himself stands. We spot Ginny and run towards her. Harry drops his wand and kneels over her. “Ginny! Please don't be dead. Ginny! Wake up! Wake up!”

“She won’t wake.” a voice says. We turn and see Tom Riddle. A pit forms in my stomach.

“Tom… Tom Riddle? What d'you mean, she won't wake? She's not…” Harry questions.

“She's still alive. But only just.”

“Are you a ghost?” Harry asks.

“A memory. Preserved in a diary for fifty years.”

“She's cold as ice. You've got to help me, Tom. There's a basilisk --”

“It won’t come until it’s called.” Tom says. He’s holding a wand. Harry’s. 

“Give me my wand, Tom.” Harry demands, coldly.

“You won't be needing it.”

“Listen, we've got to go! We've got to save her!”

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Harry. You see, as poor Ginny grows weaker... I grow stronger.”

“She's dying, you son of a bitch!” I snap.

“Yes. I'm afraid so. But then, she's been in so much pain, poor Ginny. She's been writing to me for months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes. Ginny poured her soul out to me. I grew stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful enough to start feeding Ginny a few secrets, to start pouring a bit of my soul back into her…” I glare, gritting my teeth in realization. “Yes, Sammy, she opened the Chamber of Secrets.”

“No... she couldn't -- she wouldn't.” Harry denies.

“It was Ginny who set the Basilisk on the Mudbloods and the Squib's cat. Ginny who wrote threatening messages on the walls.”

“But… why…” Harry whispers.

“Because I told her to. You'll find that I can be very persuasive. Not that she knew what she was doing. She was, shall we say, in a kind of trance. Still, the power of the diary began to scare her and she tried to dispose of it in the girls' bathroom. But then, who should find it... but you, Harry. The very person I was most anxious to meet.”

“Why did you want to meet me?”

“Ginny told me all about you. I knew I had to talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my capture of that brainless oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust. Unfortunately Brooklyn here ruined that.”

“Hagrid's my friend. And you framed him, didn't you?” Harry demands.

“It was my word against Hagrid's. Only Dumbledore seemed to think Hagrid was innocent.” 

“I'll bet Dumbledore saw right through you.” I spit.

“Yes, just like you. I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. So I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day... I would be able to lead another to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work.”

“Well, you haven't finished it this time. In a few hours Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was petrified will be alright again.” Harry spits.

“Haven't I told you that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been... you.” He gives us an evil grin. “Imagine my disappointment when I learned Ginny had stolen the diary back from you.” 

“Ginny stole the diary from my room? But why?”

“She was afraid. Afraid you'd learn how to work the diary. Afraid I'd tell you just who it was that had been strangling all those roosters.” We look at Ginny whose lips are now a shade of help, “Come now, Harry. Don't look so disappointed. Had Ginny succeeded in destroying the diary, she would have destroyed me. And we couldn't be having this little talk. And I have so many questions for you.” I feel like a third wheel here, I quickly draw my wand. “ _ Expelliarmus! _ ” I fall backwards and my wand rolls into the Chamber. “You would’ve made such a promising Slytherin. Such a shame you fell in love with that dirty little mudblood.”

“Hermione is twice the wizard you’ll ever be.”

“ _ Confringo. _ ” An explosion launches me across the room.

“Sammy!”

“Don’t worry!” I grunt, getting up on shaky legs.

“Now, Mr. Potter, about those questions…”

“What?” Harry growls. 

“Well, how is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?”

“Why do you care how I escaped? Voldemort was after your time.”

“Voldemort is my past, present and future.” Riddle hisses, before spelling his name in the air, and with a swipe, the letters change from: _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ to: _I am Lord Voldemort_.

“Told you this fucker was bad news.” I grumble.

“You.” Harry frowns, “You're the heir of Slytherin. You're Voldemort?”

“Surely you didn't think I would keep my filthy Muggle father's name?” He looks as if he’s about to laugh, “No, I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world.”

“Dumbledore is the greatest sorcerer.” I growl.

“Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me.”   


“He'll never be gone! Not as long as those who remain are loyal to him!” Harry exclaims. I hear the statue of Slytherin shift and Tom grabs me and holds the wand to my neck. “Let him go!” Suddenly a phoenix flies in from the sky. “Fawkes?” Harry asks. The bird drops a hat. 

“This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat!” Riddle laughs as he kicks the hat away, and says something in parseltongue. The statue of Slytherin starts to move. “Keep your eyes open, we’ll see just how powerful you are, Brooklyn.”

“Actually, I’m from Queens.” I clutch Snape’s watch tightly and I feel it change in my hand, into a dagger. I shove it into Tom’s ribcage and he lets go. A little too late, I see a pair of yellow eyes, and then nothing.

**_(A/N: I pulled a little sneaky on you. Stay tuned to find out what happens to Samuel Hedrich.)_ **


	19. Grit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late, had to help a friend, hope it's worth the wait.

I feel like I’m falling in molasses. Everything is slow and uncomfortable. A white hot light scorches my retinas as I try to adjust, looking around. It’s a little market place, the world seems weirdly slow. There are people I recognize. Is this… is this the Overworld? It looks just like my old one. Suddenly, Mom’s eyes meet mine. “I… I shouldn’t be here.” I whisper. “I need to go back.”

“I know.” Mom sighs, “But in order to go back, you must prove you are worthy of it.”

“Worthy of what?”

“The title of the Great Wizard, only if you are can he perform the Soul Return Ritual. Follow me.” I get up slowly, “Things here are heavier, you’ll get used to it.” Mom stands me in the back of a line. “That sword only comes up for those who are worthy of the Great Wizard’s throne.”

“Has it come up for anyone before?” 

“Only two men, and they both became the next Great Wizard.” I nod gravely as the line slowly whittles down. After half an hour, I stand at the sword, gripping it firmly, then I close my eyes.  _ Worthy.  _ A voice rings in my head. Suddenly, the sword comes up like a hot knife from butter. Gasps of shock are heard from the crowd as I hold the golden sword in my hands, it should be heavy, but it’s light. Almost weightless. “That’s my boy.” Mom whispers. “Follow me.”

In moments, we are on a train, heading towards the Great Wizard’s home, Mom is eerily silent and the train is empty. When we arrive Mom makes me go in alone, holding the golden sword. The Great Wizard isn’t what I expected at all - it’s a kid. My age.

“Why have you come before me?” He asks, before looking at the sword. “Oh. The sword deemed you worthy. So you're the next Great Wizard?”

“No. I need to go back.”

“Think about it. Being the Great Wizard is a job one could only dream of. Don’t you want to be unstoppable, with powers beyond your imagination?” He smiles, “You’ll never have to work for anything again, the most beautiful witches in the land will line up for miles.”

“There’s only one witch that I care about. I want to go back."

“Pity.” The Great Wizard sighs, “But I will do as you ask, Prince.”

“Prince?”

“Any wizard who is worthy of my throne and chooses instead to return to life becomes an honorary prince to the Great Wizard.” He throws me a sheath for my sword, “In your dreams, you will return here and train with me, when you die at last, Mr. Hedrich, you  **will** be the next Great Wizard. Understood?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” The Great Wizard stands, “ _ Lift him up, take him away, let the prince live another day _ !” He casts the spell through his hands. 

  
  


I wake up and push myself to my feet, my new gold sword at my hip, my dagger driven into my thigh. I pull it out and it becomes a pocket watch once more. I spot Tom Riddle.

“There- there’s no way! How are you alive?!” Riddle demands as I glare at him.

“My death was…” I crack my neck and draw my sword, “Greatly exaggerated.” He sends a furious stream of spells my way which are blocked with my sword. As I defend myself, I sneak a glance at Ginny and she looks awful. In comes Harry.

“Sammy?! I thought you were dead.” 

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun.”

“Well your little miracles happened too late!” Riddle shouts, “The process is nearly complete! In a few minutes, Ginny Weasley will be dead and I will cease to be a memory. Lord Voldemort will return. Very much... alive.” Suddenly, the snake bursts out of the water and, from the hat, Harry draws a sword. Now we’re both armed. We climb opposite sides of the statue to get away from the basilisk until we meet on Slytherin’s head. We try to fend it off to little avail.

“Harry, when it strikes, through the head!” I shout. Harry nods. The snake rears back to make a strike, bares its teeth and shoots forwards. “Now!” I make sure to avoid the snake’s tooth as we both drive our swords through its head. It squirms a moment before dying. I look at Harry and see a tooth jutting out of his arm. “Fuck.” Harry nods before pulling it out with a groan. We make our way back down to the ground. Tom flashes an ugly grin.

“Remarkable, isn't it? How quickly the venom of the Basilisk penetrates the body? If you have any final words, Potter, you'd best speak them now. I'd guess you have little more than a minute to live.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I snap. Harry groans, “Come on Glasses, stay with me, alright?”

Riddle continues to bask in his victory, “So ends the famous Harry Potter. On his knees in the Chamber of Secrets. Defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry.” Harry looks at Ginny and crawls towards her. “Funny, isn't it? The damage a silly little book can do? Especially in the hands of a silly little girl.” Harry takes the book from her. “Wait, what are you doing? Stop.” Harry opens the book and I stand, sword trained on Riddle, “ **No!** ” He lunges forward and gets sliced across the face. Harry brings the tooth into the book and black ink spills over the pages and onto the floor. Riddle shrieks in pain and starts to wither away almost instantly. Harry continues to stab the book over and over again, until he’s closed the book.

“Can I do the honors?” I ask.

“Be my guest.” Harry croaks. When I grab the pocket watch, it’s already a dagger, and I drive it through the front cover for the final blow. The color returns to Ginny’s face as I sheathe my sword, pocket my watch and wander off to find my wand. As I leave, she starts sobbing.

“Harry. It was me! But I swear, I didn't mean to… Riddle made me. He wrote to me... took me over… I didn't even know whose diary it was. I found it inside my cauldron. The day we all went to Diagon Alley and… Harry. You're hurt…”  _ Lucius Malfoy, I should’ve known. _

“Ginny. You need to get yourself out… Follow Sammy… You'll find Ron…” 

I snatch up my wand, “Fuck that, we’re not leaving you to rot in here!” 

Suddenly the phoenix from earlier descends and lands on Harry’s arm before laying its head down. “You were brilliant, Fawkes. I just... wasn't quick enough.” Tears start falling from the bird’s eyes, into his wound.

“The tears of a phoenix!” I exclaim, “They have healing powers!”

Harry smiles, “Thanks, Fawkes and thank you, Sammy. Without you, I’d be-”

“Probably where we are right now but less stressed.” I grab Harry’s wand. “There you go Glasses.” He holsters it. “Did you guys know that a phoenix can carry up to six average-sized adult males before being overwhelmed?” We look at Fawkes and he audibly gulps.

  
  


We land in front of the school and sigh in relief. “Good thing we got here without anyone noticing.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that.” The light flicks on and Snape is ahead of almost the entire administration. “Care to explain where you’ve been?”

The door opens again behind us. “Yes.” An old voice says, “Ron, Harry, Sam, care to join me in my office?” Dumbledore stands behind us with a kind glisten in his eye as Fawkes perches on his shoulder and drops the hat into his hand. 

“Could I have a second?” I ask.

“I suppose.”

I give my wand to Snape. “When we’re gone, swipe it like a sideways triangle and say ‘Play Recording: Today.’ It has sufficient evidence that will prove a conspiracy plotted out by Lockhart and reveal his true character.”

“Thank you Mr. Hedrich. Your assistance is… much appreciated.” Then he sees the sword on my side. “What is that?”

“I’m the Prince to the Great Wizard.” Whispers ensue among the staff.

Snape nods, it’s almost like a bit of a bow before strolling off with Lockhart and Ginny. We follow Dumbledore to his office. 

After explaining the whole situation Dumbledore sighs, “You three realize, of course, that in the last few hours, you have broken perhaps a dozen school rules?”

“Yes sir.” We all say.

“And that there is sufficient evidence to expel you all?”

“Yes sir.” We repeat.

“Therefore, it seems only fitting…” We wince, ready to be punished, “That you all receive Special Awards for Services to the School and -- let me see -- yes, I think two hundred points apiece, which, I believe, should be more than enough to secure Gryffindor the House Cup.”

We all grin, “Thank you, sir.”

“Now, Mr. Weasley, if you would, have an owl deliver these release papers to Azkaban. We need our gamekeeper back.” Ron nods and runs out with the papers, leaving me and Harry. “First, I want to thank you both. You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you.” He turns to me, “First, Sam, I can’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been to meet the Great Wizard and turn his throne down. Even if he ended up giving it to you anyway, it takes great character and integrity to make such a bold decision. Secondly, Harry, I sense you're troubled by something. Am I right?”

“It's just, you see, sir, I couldn't help noticing certain things. Certain similarities. Between Tom Riddle and me.”

“You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar.”

“Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?”  _ Not the best way to put that, Harry. _

“Not intentionally, but... yes.”

“So the Sorting Hat was right. I should be a Slytherin.” Harry sighs.

“It's true, Harry. You do possess many of the qualities Voldemort himself prizes. Resourcefulness. Determination. A certain disregard for the rules. Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor.”

“Only because I asked it to.” Harry says sadly.

“Exactly. Which makes you very different from Voldemort. It's not our abilities that show what we truly are, Harry. It's our choices. If you want proof that you belong in Gryffindor, Harry, I suggest you look more closely at this.” 

He hands Harry the sword that he used when we tandem-stabbed the snake. “'Godric Gryffindor.'”

“Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the Hat.” Dumbledore ensures, then he looks at me. “And as for you, Mr. Hedrich, no one in this school’s history has ever been worthy enough to pull that sword from the trial stones. You two might just go down as the greatest wizards who’ve ever lived.” Suddenly, the door opens to reveal Lucius pulling a house elf by the ear. 

“Dobby! This is your Master? The family you serve is the Malfoys!”

The troll nods and the elder Malfoy shoves past us. “Out of my way, children. So! You've returned!” 

“Yes. When the governors heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been taken into the Chamber, they saw fit to summon me back. Curiously, several of them seemed under the impression that you would curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place, Lucius.” Lucius glares.

“From the beginning, my only concern has been the welfare of this school and its students.”

I cough, “Bullshit!” I cough again. Malfoy glares at me and I clear my throat, “I’m sorry, I must be allergic to snobby pricks.”

Malfoy shakes his head, “I assume the culprit has been identified.” 

“Oh yes. It was Voldemort. Only this time, he chose to act through someone else. By means of… this.” He puts the disfigured diary on the table. “Fortunately, young Mr. Potter and Hedrich discovered it. One only hopes that no more of Lord Voldemort's old school things find their way into innocent hands. The consequences for the one responsible could be... severe.” He says in a threatening cold tone.

“Come, Dobby. We're leaving.” Lucius growls, soon booting Dobby out of the room and following himself. We can hear the house elf’s cries of pain. 

“Sir? I wonder if I could have that.” Harry points to the diary. 

“Oh, go ahead.” When we’re out of the door, Harry takes a sock off and puts it in the book.

“You clever motherfucker.” Harry smiles and nods, then we chase him down. 

“Mr. Malfoy! I have something of yours.” Lucius turns and Harry shoves the diary into his hands.

“Mine? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do, sir. I think you slipped it into Ginny Weasley's cauldron that day in Diagon Alley.” Harry explains.

Lucius bends forwards and whispers, “Prove it.”

“Jesus fuck! Your breath stinks. When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?!” I groan.

“Why you little-”

“Mr. Malfoy! I trust you aren’t threatening two young wizards?” Dad. 

Malfoy spins around, and hands the book to Dobby. “No Mr. Hedrich, not at all!”

“Mhmm. What’s that?” 

“Your son gave it to me.”

“Did he now?” 

As all of this is going on, me and Harry are telling Dobby to open it. Dobby gasps upon finding Harry’s sock. “Master has given Dobby a sock. Master has presented Dobby with clothes. Dobby is... free!”

“What, that’s not true!” Lucius snaps, turning around. “You-” he growls, glaring at Harry, “You’ve cost me my servant!” He draws his wand and Dobby jumps fearlessly in front of Harry.

“Mr. Malfoy!” Dad shouts. Malfoy turns around, “I trust that I didn’t just see you attempt to use your magic to harm a young wizard.”

“But I -- he-”

“I don’t care what he did, Mr. Malfoy. It’s your fault you lost him. Your ignorance cost you your servant and there is no one else to blame. Leave at once and I won’t report this incident to your higher-ups.” Lucius growls in frustration and leaves.

“Harry Potter freed Dobby! How can Dobby ever repay him?”

“Promise me one thing; never try to save me again.” Dobby nods. Then disappears with a crack. “Hello, Mr. Hedrich.”

“Harry.” Dad greets before handing me one of the bags, “That’s for Hermione. Whitman’s Sampler, just like you said. I’m a little late, sorry.” Dad looks around, “I was here on business regarding Mr. Lockhart.”

“Oh, Mr. Hedrich.” A voice says from down the hall.

“Snape!” Dad cheers, hugging his old friend who doesn’t hug back, holding that uninterested expression.

“Yes. Me. If you have information on Gilderoy, you’re just in time. We’re meeting in the staff room. Samuel, they’re about to wake the sleepers.” Snape says.

“Hermione’s gonna be woken up.” I say, excitedly.

“Go!” Harry cheers. I nod and dart around a corner. 

Before long, I’m at the infirmary Madam Pomfrey meets me, “I take it you’re here for Hermione?” I blush before nodding. “Good. They’re bringing the stew right now, just wait over here by the bed.” I look into Hermione’s dead eyes. Soon, two adults show up, Madam Sprout and Pomfrey. I hold open Hermione’s mouth as they pour in the mandrake juice and hold her hand in mine tightly, suddenly her eyes flutter, before she sees me, then Pomfrey and Sprout. “We’ll leave it to Samuel to wake your limbs up.” Pomfrey says and they leave with the pot. 

I start curling her arm at the elbow. “So, we solved your little puzzle Hermione. Me and Harry took out that basilisk.” I say, “I also died, but I’m okay now. I’m supposed to be the next Great Wizard next time I die, so that’s exciting. I wish I were joking. I even got the sword to prove it, I’ll show you when I’m done. Anyway, you’ll never guess who was behind those attacks. Tom Riddle. Yeah, turns out he was really Old V.” I shrug. “Can you move it?”

“Mhmm.”

“Oh uh… I have bad news about Lockhart. He… you know what, I’ll tell you later. I’ll wake up your jaw next, okay?” I quickly rush out to wash my hands before working on her jaw. My face is only a little bit away from hers, I imagine kissing her right now and blush, trying to push that thought away in this intimate moment. “I’m really glad that you’re awake. It was really hard doing that without you, Golden.” She smiles. I brush my thumb over her lips by accident and we both blush. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t… be.”

“You have no idea how much I missed your voice.” Within the hour, her entire body has been woken up. She hugs me. “Well Harry really saved everyone.”

“You died for him.”

“It actually wasn’t a sacrifice, it was more a product for not being safe.” I pull the sword out of its sheath. “This is the golden challenge sword.” I hand it to her and she holds it. 

“Wow. It’s beautiful.”

“I think that it’s been enchanted.” I say.

“Yeah, otherwise gold would make a crummy sword.” I brush Hermione’s hair out of her face and just look at her. 

“So, Gryffindor is a shoe-in for the house cup. After we got back, Dumbledore awarded me, Harry and Ron two-hundred points each.”

“It’s weird hearing you call him ‘Harry.’ I’ve gotten so used to Glasses.”

“I only call him that to his face. Also, he’s gotten the privilege to call me Sammy.”

“Still no Ron?”

“Still no Ron.” I nod. “I was so scared for you. Snape told me, he took me out of Lockhart’s and brought me here. You’ve been out for a week.” I pull out the bag, “I meant to give this to you for Valentine’s Day, but you missed it by a day.”

“These… these are my favorite, and such a big box… How much did you pay for this?”

“Well it was sixty dollars so… forty-five pounds? Yeah, that sounds right.” I smile, “Didn’t buy you another three-hundred dollar necklace though.” She smiles and pulls it out of her shirt. 

“You spoil me.”

“You scare the shit out of me.”

“Are you kidding me? You almost died twice and you literally just died!”

“Hey, that’s part of the fun. You gotta one-up yourself.”

“Answer me this, how are you gonna top  **being dead** ?”

“Didn’t think of that.” I mutter.

“Oh you didn’t?” She asks sarcastically.

“I’ll figure it out.” We share a laugh. “So, would you have been my valentine?”

She blushes, “Out of pity? Yes.”

“Ouch.” I chuckle, “That one hurt, but I’ll do you one better.” I start tickling her, she starts laughing uncontrollably.

“Okay, okay, stop! I’m sorry!” I tickle her harder and she laughs harder, “Okay, okay I accept!”

“You accept what?”

“You as my valentine…” She looks up at me and smiles, “You never even had to ask, you idiot.”

“Hello- oh! Am I interrupting something?” Dad. “I could leave you to it.”

“No. Come in, Dad.” I sit back in the chair. “How’d it go with Lockhart?”

“Here’s your wand.” He says, holding it out. “Also, Lockhart is fired. Your information was more telling than anything I had.” Dad sees the confused look on Hermione’s face. “Play it, son.”

“But-”

“Sammy-”

“Fine.” I wave my wand, “Play Recording: Yesterday.” The screen comes up and we all watch it together. Hermione looks a little down. “Last night he tried to do the same to us, but thanks to Ron’s awful wand, it backfired and now he doesn’t know who he is.”

“We decided not to pursue criminal charges, but I think he’s learned his lesson, we’ve got him in my testing laboratory, getting selective memory replacement, anything about magic will be gone and left to stay in the unconscious mind. Unfortunately, we aren’t sure how well this will work, it’s new machinery after all.” He looks at me, “Also, Sammy, I heard you died.”

“…Yeah.”

“You’re lucky to be worthy then, because if you were gone for good, I would’ve killed you. Anyways, I’ve gotta go lovebirds.”

“We’re just friends!” Me and Hermione call after him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dad chuckles.

  
  


When it’s time for dinner, we head down to the great hall. Me and Hermione walk in, she hugs Harry and Ron, I give them both bro-hugs and we take our usual places before Dumbledore stands.

“Before we begin our feast, let's give a round of applause to Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey, whose Mandrake Juice has been successfully administered to all those who had been petrified.” We all cheer and clap. “Also, in the wake of recent events, as a school treat, all exams have been cancelled.” Everyone cheers except a disappointed Hermione. I put my hand on hers.

Suddenly, the hall doors burst open and in comes Hagrid, “Sorry I'm late. The owl deliverin' my release papers got all lost 'n confused. Some ruddy bird named Errol.” Ron gets a little embarrassed. “I jus' want to say... that if it wasn't fer' you, Harry… you an' Sam… and Ron… and Hermione… Well, I jus' want to say… Thanks.”

“There’s no Hogwarts without you Hagrid.” Harry says. 

Before long, Hagrid is getting a standing ovation and I see tears in his eyes. I hand him a napkin, “There you go, big guy.” Hagrid nods and looks at Hermione. He tilts his head at me and whispers something to her that makes her blush as he dries his eyes and takes his rightful place at the table.


	20. See You Soon

We leave the train after another long, eventful year at Hogwarts, having another finished story under our belt, me, Harry, Ron and Hermione make our way off the train after Hermione nudges me awake. Harry smiles, “Don’t be a stranger."

“Read our mail this time.” I suggest. 

“Will do, Sammy.”

“When can I call you Sammy?” Ron asks.

“If I have my way, never.” I reply. Ron smiles and nods.

“Well kids, ready to go?” Dad asks. He comes forwards. “Oh, hey Ron. How was your year?”

“Eventful.” Ron sighs, “But of course it was. I’m friends with three of the most troublesome wizards on the planet.”

“Didn’t you steal your family’s car?”

“…Maybe.”

“I’m just saying. Don’t be the pot calling the kettle black. Anyways, it was good to see you Ron and Harry, now I need to take those two home. But if either of you want to visit. Throw these at a wall and say this address.” He hands them the card and the lighters, and he, Hermione and I walk away. “So, they pushed these off again, after deciphering the code in the name. Now they’re just called WheyPoynts, which is lame. But they’re finally on shelves and my advisors have all been rehired.” He pulls out another lighter. “Home.” We wheel our carts through the door and enter into our house, pulling the door closed behind us. “There’s no party this year, your parents are working late. Sash, could you order a pie?” 

“Yeah.” Sash says.

“You look tired, Dad.”

“Yeah, I’ve been working myself too hard. Haven’t gotten sleep in three days.”

“How is Lockhart?”

“When we put him up to the machine, he had a seizure. We’re going over what caused it. So far, all he remembers is that he’s a writer, and he’s writing a book as we speak. Speaking of books, the royalties came in from The Criminals. A letter of Galleons twice a week. You got somewhere in the realm of four hundred. A piece. I’d grab the sacks they’re in for you, but I threw out my back yesterday, I can’t lift fifty pounds worth of gold.” He smiles and groans. “I’ve gotta go off to work. I trust that you’ll both be fine to stay alone for a while.” We nod. “Good. No funny business. Here’s the tip for the driver.” He hands me a… five pound note? I don’t know, I’m from America. It’s a five.

Hermione and I make our way into the living room and sit on the couch. “Well, at least we’ll get some quality time together.”

“Haven’t we spent two years together?”

“Just about.” I shrug. “Yet every time I see you, it’s like the first time.”

“…Yeah.” She agrees after a moment. “It’s weird, but every time I see you, I feel safe. Even when I’m not.” 

“Thank you.” I whisper. “I don’t deserve that. I barely have any sense of who I am.” 

“Of course you do. You’re Samuel Hedrich.” 

“Yeah. Samuel motherfucking Hedrich.” I laugh, Shakespeare curled into a ball at my feet. I grab the The Fallen Empire from my bag and she grabs a book she’s read to me from hers. She leans on my shoulder after a bit and I start combing my fingers through her hair. Eventually, it’s almost time for the sunset. Me and Hermione get on my broom and fly until we’re at a cliff we discovered last year a little-a-ways out of the city. Nobody’s out here to bug us as we watch the sun’s colors dance across the sky. 

“The view’s beautiful up here.” Hermione says.

I give her a content smile, “Yes it is.”  _ That has two meanings.  _ She looks at me and blushes, I keep eye contact with her. Those brilliant brown eyes, so soft, so wise. They’ve become one of my favorite things to look at about her. I’m still not emotionally stable enough yet. “Will you wait for me?”  _ Fuck my life. _

“On what?” 

“Just in general.”

She smiles as she lays back, “Of course I will.” I join her on the ground, looking at the sky. “I’ll wait for a long time, just don’t make me wait for a hundred years, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“Oh, and try not to die again, I don’t want to lose you forever.”

“I know.”

“Then I think we’re clear.” She whispers, “So, Ron’s going to Egypt. His mum wants to take you too.” 

“Really?” 

“That’s what I said.” She laughs. “Ron told her about the chamber. You gave your life protecting her daughter and almost immediately gave it a second time fighting the basilisk. So yeah, it makes sense that she’d invite you.”

“I’d love to go, but I’d leave you alone.” 

“Didn’t we just talk about this? I’ll wait for you.”

“I know.” I sigh. Soon, the sun has hidden in the distance and the stars come out. “There’s our constellation.” I whisper, pointing at the Big Dipper.

“The Plough. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we did this for the first time.”

“I can’t either.” I admit, “You’ve really changed, Golden.”

“For better or worse?”

“Definitely better.” I smile.

“You’ve changed quite a bit yourself, Sammy.”

“How?”

“You’re more mature than you used to be, less confrontational. More kind. Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything."

“I-l lo… you don’t act like you’re as smart as you are.”  _ That isn’t what she wanted to say. _

“Is that a compliment?” 

“I don’t know.” Hermione admits, “You seem… I don’t know… normal?”

“Thanks?” I smile, “You’re not. You’re anything but normal. That’s the best thing about you.” We sit in silence for a while. “We should probably head back.”

“…Yeah.” She sighs and gets up. “Do you ever wonder if… I don’t know, one day we’ll show up here… with a different relationship?”

“We will. I’m not sure what that change is yet, but… I guess I’m hoping it goes a certain way.”

“How so?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” We mount my broom, I flick the switch and we take off, Hermione yelling at me the entire way up.


	21. Third Year students

Well I’m in the crux of puberty now. Over the school year and the summer, I grew to five-nine, my voice got deeper and acne came and swept my face with zits, my beard though, is in full swing, not quite viking, more an exceptionally long stubble. Dad’s trying to get me to shave, but that won’t happen. Hermione likes the beard. She developed some acne of her own, but just enough that it can be believably covered with a little foundation. Lucky her. Otherwise, she didn’t change too much before Ron’s family invited me on their trip. This birthday went much better. Harry even showed up (for a bit before leaving with a new WheyPoynt, he broke the old one), I didn’t cry this year, so that’s a plus. I didn’t get many presents, maybe they realized that I’m fourteen. Anyway, when I left Hermione hadn’t changed too much, so imagine my surprise to walk into the Diagon Alley hotel and find Hermione twice as beautiful as when I left her. Which, for me, is saying a lot. Even if it’s just a little height in the legs and a haircut. She holds an orange cat in her arms. 

Ron looks at me. “So yeah, if you want to stay with us you can.” 

I turn to him and look at their expansive family. “Dad didn’t get me a room?”

“No, Mum said she’d get you one but we spent all our money already. Your Dad brought all of your school stuff to Hermione’s room yesterday. You could ask to stay with her.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“You two already cuddled under blankets at school and you almost always pass out while leaning on her shoulder.” Ron smirks, “How awkward could it be, Sam?” 

“Sammy! Ron!” She cheers, running towards us.

“Uh oh, looks like we’ve been caught.” Ron laughs. We walk towards her. Ron eyes the cat, “Who’s this?”

“This is Crookshanks.” Hermione says, “He and Shakespeare have made quick friends.”

“Good.” I say, looking at her.  _ She’s… gorgeous. I mean, she always has been, but…  _ “You look good, Golden.”

She blushes and brushes the hair out of her face, “Thanks.” 

“I’ll leave you two be.” Ron decides, before bowing and walking away. We both crinkle our noses at him, before I look at Hermione.

“May I?” I hold my hands out. 

“Sure.” Hermione says, handing me Crookshanks. I scratch him behind his ear and he warms up to me immediately, rubbing his face across my chin. “He likes you. Thought he would.” She looks at me, then gets flustered. “So… I heard that you’d be sleeping with the Weasleys in their room, and I was wondering… since your dad dropped your stuff off in my room, maybe you’d… like to stay with me?”

“You know, I was just about to ask you if I could stay in your room.” I laugh a bit, “Yeah, I’d love to bunk with you.”

“One problem, there’s only one bed.” Hermione says.

“We’ve shared a couch.”

“Yeah, but not overnight.” she blushes, “I mean,” Her voice shrinks to a whisper, “I don’t know what you wear to bed.”

I burst out laughing, “Shorts.” I wheeze when my fit is done.

“No shirt?” her blush deepens.

“Well if you’re uncomfortable-”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” She blurts out. Then she has a face that practically screams she didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

“Well, why don’t you show me the room before we talk about what we’ll be wearing?”

“Yeah.” Hermione nods, taking Crookshanks and setting him down before leading me upstairs. We enter a medium-sized room with a kitchen area, a bed and a couch. Shakespeare rushes to me and I pick her up, giving her love as I look around. 

“If you want me to, I could sleep on the couch.”

“If you want to.” She waves it off like it’s no big deal, but I can feel a different emotion in her voice.  _ To her this is. This will tell her whether or not I like her. Whether I  _ **_should_ ** _ be waited for. _

I lay down on the bed and Shakespeare curls up contently on my chest. “What’ll you be wearing tonight?”

“Tank top and shorts.” She says. She seems… happy.  _ Good. _ “Oh, I got a few new books to read to you.” She hands me a small pile of books, Midnight Lamp, How I Live Now, A Good Year, Millennium People and our newest book, The Fallen Empire. I smile at its cover, our names written. “We’re #1 New York Times Bestsellers twice now.” 

“How’s this one doing compared to our last one?”

“Actually, better. Both in reception and sales. People love post-apocalyptic stories.”

“I mean, yeah. That’s kinda the idea behind a book like this. But I bet the romance was well-received.”

“Well, there’s already fanfiction online.”

I snicker a bit. “So we made another hit?”

“Yeah. We beat out Lockhart again. He’s been a close number two for a while.” 

“We’ll beat him. Just like last time.”

“You’re confident.” She teases.

“Correction: I’m arrogant.” 

“Same difference.” 

“I don’t know.” I rub her arm a bit, before I blush and stand, “Lets uh… get some food.” 

“Sounds good.” Hermione says, a little flustered herself.

We get back and she showers first after she’s done, wearing that tanktop and those shorts, I try my best not to stare at her smooth skin or her newly developing breasts. We’re both blushing hard before I go into the bathroom, hand balled into a fist in my pocket. I take a shower, brush my teeth and slip into my clothes. When I get out, drying my hair, I hear a small “Wow.” I look down at my torso. Despite my lack of any real care, I still have a relatively built body. I’m not buff or anything but I’m lean, just muscular enough to be fit. I look at the scars on my body, some of them from the past two years, most of them from Awfelts. War scars. I walk towards the bed and she stops me before tracing a finger on one of my scars.

“What happened?”

“A lot.”

“Does Colson-”

“Dad didn’t do this.” I cut in. “Wizards in America are essentially all Malfoy to a degree of a thousand. They attack on the drop of a hat and are entirely willing to kill. At Awfelts, I only succeeded in my intelligence. I outsmarted them and won a turf war.”

“Jesus.” She shakes her head. “I never thought you’d tell me.”

“I figured you already knew.” I smile, joining her on the bed. “When did you find out?”

“I did research on the Hedrich family last summer. Found out about everything, but I never heard about this.”

“Yeah. I’m not proud of everything I’ve done.”

“You are a truly brilliant man, Sammy.” 

“I wish that were true.” I sigh, “So what are we reading?”

“Our book.” She manovers her head to my chest and I shiver beneath the contact, before reaching up and starting to comb my hand through her hair. I think I hear an audible purr. She might actually be part cat forever. Oh well. Smiling down at her, I realize that I’m at a good place mentally, but I’m still waiting for the right moment. As perfect as this moment now is, it isn’t right. 

While she reads, I trail off in my thoughts a bit. Every night, I’ve gone to the Spirit World, met the Great Wizard and trained. First, I mastered wandless magic, now I’m working on transfiguration mastery. The Great Wizard is very careful in what he does, everything is intentional and his teaching ability is second-to-none. My favorite moments are the ones where he shows me the inner workings of the Spirit World, one day on Earth is their equivalent of a week, he keeps me for three hours, in their world before letting me dream, so I’m in the Spirit World for less than half an hour, and get to dream the rest of the night. Eventually, I’m back from my thoughts and Hermione’s still reading. I smile at the sound of her voice.

_ The Spirit World is great, but this is heaven.  _

“You smell good.” I mutter. _ Shit I’m tired. How long was she reading to me? _ I check my phone. Three hours. Nice. 

“Thanks.” She yawns, “Bloody hell, what time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Bloody hell! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I like listening to you.” I mutter. 

“Even so.” She marks her page, “I likely would’ve read until three in the morning.”

“Probably. But then you’d hear me snoring.”

She turns her head to face me, “Your snoring isn’t that loud.” Then she blushes, which is cute. I move my hand from her hair to her face, gently brushing it over her cheek. She looks down. “Do you like me?”

“Let’s get to sleep, Golden.” I reply, half a smile on my face. She looks down sadly.  _ Just hold out a little longer. I’m sorry to make you wait. _ “Hey, don’t make that sad face, I’m with you now aren’t I?”

“I wish it was in a different way.”

“I know.” I sigh. “Come here.” She comes towards me and lays her head down on my shoulder, stretching one arm over my chest as I pull the cover over us. I hum Your Song as we drift off to sleep.

  
  


I wake up first, feeling well rested underneath a tangle of limbs. Hermione breathes softly into my chest. She’s so adorable when she’s asleep. It’s a shame I can’t do much more than look at her, I really want to kiss her right now, but I can’t. I listen to her small breaths for a little under half an hour before she stirs, looking up at me with her frizzled hair, weary eyes and a drowsy smile. I fall in love with her that much more. “Amos, you’re beautiful.” I murmur, before blushing.  _ Fuck. _

“What?” she asks. Good, she didn’t hear me.

“Nothing. Let’s get up.” She groans before pulling away from me and stretching. I go to my bag and pull out some clothes as she grabs her necklace from the night table and puts it on, “Shit it’s cold.”

“That’s why we huddled up last night?”

“Yeah. That’s why…” I look at the brunette over my shoulder as I pull on a shirt. We share a look knowing that that isn’t the real reason. I take a look at our cats laying down together at the foot of the bed. Crookshanks shoots awake and trots out of the room as Shakespeare’s paw twitches a bit. Me and Hermione look at each other once more and I give her a smile before heading into the bathroom to put on my pants and brush my teeth, she joins me when I start the latter, wearing the school top, but otherwise still in her pajamas, her long legs bringing her body to be about shoulder height.

Still brushing my teeth, I decide to tease her a bit, looking down at her, mocking her height lightly. She elbows me in the stomach playfully and I barely hold back a laughing fit that would’ve shot toothpaste all over her before I finish brushing, gargle some water, spit it out and leave to put on my shoes and coat. Soon Hermione comes out with her hair brushed, shimmering perfectly over her shoulders. I give her a long stare before clearing my throat, now flustered.

“Let’s go.” I say after a moment. She nods and we head downstairs for breakfast, Ron sits at the table and looks at us.

“You two look refreshed.” He says, “Slept well?”

“I slept pretty good.” I admit, taking a seat across from him, scratching my beard. Hermione sits next to me and we eat some cereal. Soon, Scabbers runs towards us and into Ron’s arms, followed closely by Crookshanks who Hermione grabs and scolds while Ron gives her an outraged look.

“I'm warning you, Hermione! Keep that bloody beast of yours away from Scabbers or I'll turn it into a tea cozy!”

“You ain’t touching her cat.” I snap and Ron rolls his eyes.

“What do you expect Ron, he’s a cat, it’s in his nature!”

“It isn’t in Shakespeare’s.”

“Shakespeare’s lazy, dude. What does she care about a rat when she needs a nap?”

“You are both unreasonable!”

“And you aren’t?” Hermione growls, “It’s okay, Crookshanks, ignore the mean little boy.”

“Don’t look now guys, but I think we have company.” They follow my gaze up to the staircase where they see the boy watching us.

“Harry!” They exclaim. Soon, Ron’s showing Harry the picture of his family and me in Egypt. Hermione ignores them as she focuses on her cat, petting him gently, watch this with a smile

“Egypt! What's it like?” Harry asks.

“Brilliant. It's got loads of old stuff. Mummies. Death masks. Even Scabbers enjoyed himself.”

“You know that ancient Egyptians used to worship cats?” Hermione says, defensively.

“Yeah, also dung beetles.”

“Well dung beetles are actually very fascinating insects.” I argue, “Did you know-” 

“Not flashing that clipping about again, are you, Ron?” George (?) asks, cutting me off from another tangent about dung beetles.

“I haven’t shown anyone!” Ron retorts.

“No, not a soul. Unless you count Tom. The day maid. The night maid. The cook. The bloke that came to fix the toilet. That wizard from Belgium…” Fred (?) says, taking the paper from Ron as Hermione and I go off to see Ginny. 

“Hey Ginny, did you enjoy your trip?” Hermione asks.

“Yeah, it was really good. Sam knows a lot about pharaohs and -- well -- just about everything in Egypt. He even led the tour guide down a secret path into a place where a number of treasures were held that had not been discovered, all off of a hunch.” She says, “Who’s this?” 

“This is Crookshanks. He’s a ginger Himalayan.” Hermione introduces.

“Can I pet him?”

“Go ahead.”

Ginny does, “Wow. He’s soft.” She smiles at me, “He’s more social than Shakespeare.”

“Well yeah, Shakespeare’s very antisocial.” 

“Hey Hermione.” Mr. Weasley says, walking past us with Harry.

“Hey, Mr. Weasley.” She says. 

“Where’s your sword?” Ginny asks, looking at me. I shrug and take the jacket Hermione got me off, revealing the sheathed blade. “Cool. Have you had to use it?”

“Thankfully not yet. Not since Old V tried to kill you.”

“Can I try to hold it?” Ginny asks.

“Sure.” I draw the sword and hand it to her. She immediately drops it. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s really heavy.” she says, before trying to pick it up to no avail. Hermione sets down Crookshanks and picks it up with ease and I look at her.  _ The sword deemed you worthy, eh? _ She gives me the sword and I sheathe it.

_ I could tell from the moment you stood up to me for her that you two were destined to be together. _

It can’t be a coincidence that we both are worthy. This many coincidences isn’t possible. Snape was right. 

_ My instinct is never wrong, Mr. Hedrich. _

Hermione gives me a quick smile before grabbing Crookshanks once more and sitting down. Ginny sits next to her and I put on my coat before pulling up a chair to sit between them. We chat about Hermione’s time while we were on vacation. It turns out she played a lot of Clue with my Dad, who eagerly taught her the ins and outs, insisting we would all play with three players next year, if his schedule clears up more. He spent almost the entire summer stressing over memory rejuvenation for the victims of Lockhart, using Lockhart himself as a test subject. He came up with one just two months ago and ever since, he’s been monitoring Gilderoy and his reactions as his memory slowly comes back up to what was allowed by Dad. Now he remembers enough to be let go tomorrow. He even took Hermione to see him. Gilderoy will live as a muggle in an extraordinary world just beyond his reach forever. Dad is now ushering in people who’ve been wiped by Gilderoy, that’s why he can’t see me off. He’s swamped. And for every one of them, he has to leave out chunks of memory including the stories Lockhart stole and ever meeting the author.

_ At least somebody’s doing something. _

Dad is actually front page news again, for helping those impacted by the effects of a horrible memory thief that he eradicated, whose victims include Gilderoy Lockhart among others. Hermione explained this being extra careful not to explicitly state that Lockhart is the “memory thief” and I can tell she struggled, so I take her hand and squeeze it as a showing of my thanks.

“You two are so cute.”

We pull away quickly, “Cute? No. We’re just - we’re just friends.” I say, Hermione frantically nods.

“Mhmm. That’s why you slept together tangled up like a pretzel.”

Our faces are practically glowing, “How did you-” Hermione starts.

“I didn’t.” Ginny beams, “Now I do.”

“You’re worse than Ron.” I mutter. “That doesn’t change the fact we still aren’t dating. It was cold last night, so we huddled up, that’s all.”

“Right.” Hermione states.

“Whatever you two say, but if you’re not together, you two should get together. Soon.” I Feel Hermione look at me. “Anyway, you two need to grab your stuff, we’ll be leaving soon.” 

  
  


We get on the train as Harry tells us how he got in trouble with the law. “I didn't mean to blow her up. I just…” He stumbles over himself a bit, “…lost control.

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaims.

“Honestly, Ron, it's not funny. Harry's lucky he wasn't expelled.” Hermione says.

“I still think it was brilliant.”

“She did have it coming to her.” I shrug, giving Ron five.

“Boys.” She huffs, then one of the monster books scurry past us, Neville in hot pursuit. 

“Hi guys!” He calls.

I point at the book, “ _ Liber Veternum Locus! _ ” The book freezes, passed out. Neville picks it up.

“You didn’t need your wand? Sweet! Also, Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” he heaves, catching his breath.

“Hey, what are friends for?” I clap him on the shoulder before running a bit to catch up with the others who are stopped outside a boothe occupied by a single sleeping dude. He looks grown, so he’s most likely part of the staff. .

“In here.” Hermione says, “It’s the only one that’s open.” We slide in, Hermione with Crookshanks, set in the window seat, I sit to her, holding Shakespeare in my lap and Harry and Ron sit next to the teacher.

“So who’s Sleepy over here?” I ask.

“Professor R.J. Lupin.” She says smugly, I look at the name in big letters on his case then back to her as I smile and shake my head.

“You know everything. How is it she knows everything?”

“She can read, Ronald.” I sigh.

“Yeah, it's on his case.” She nods.

“Is he really asleep?”

“Seems to be. Why? What is it, Harry?” Hermione asks.

“Close the door.” Harry commands. Then he goes off on a tangent about how Sirius Black is out to kill him.

“Let me get this straight. Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban to come after you?” Ron asks, almost in disbelief. But then again,  _ This  _ **_is_ ** _ Harry Potter. _

“Yes.” Harry states, solemnly.

“But they'll catch Black, won't they? I mean... eventually?” Hermione asks.

“Sure -- Of course, no one's ever broken out of Azkaban before and he's a raving, murderous lunatic…” Ron trails off as the lights flicker and the train shakes and starts to brake.

“Why are we stopping? We can’t be there yet.” Hermione questions. Harry gets up and looks out of the door before the train shudders unexpectedly, pushing him back into the seat as the door closes. 

“What’s going on?” Ron asks, shifting around in his seat. 

“Maybe we’ve broken down?” Harry suggests.

I shake my head, “On this train? This isn’t even run on coal, with the income of the school and the cost to fix this, it should be fine.” The lights shut off and everyone’s unease heightens. I instinctively grab Hermione’s hand. Then it starts getting cold, Hermione shivers and I give her my coat, and grip Snape’s pocket watch  _ Maybe I shouldn’t have put my sword with my luggage.  _ Shakespeare mews mockingly.  _ Wait, you can read my mind? _ She mews again.  _ Well shit. Glad you can’t talk. I’d be mince meat.  _ She mews approvingly of that thought and I see movement outside. “There’s something out there.” I whisper. 

“Bloody hell.” Ron whispers, “What’s happening?” Suddenly the car starts to sway violently and I clutch Hermione’s hand tighter, she matches this. Suddenly, the car stops swaying and starts to vibrate, the windows develop a coat of frost. We see a dark figure in a large cloak loom outside of the door.

“What the fuck?” I whisper. Lupin is still asleep. The creature enters the room slowly and I extend my hand, standing defensively in front of Hermione, setting Shakespeare down in my place. It’s sucking joy and passion out of me -- trying to. I won’t let it. The animals are freaking out, even Shakespeare’s hissing. It’s glaring at Harry. Harry looks like he’s… suffocating. “Let him go, you motherfucker!” I pull the watch out as a dagger and stab him and then he starts doing the same to me, he’s stealing my soul. Harry’s passed out. I’m barely alive. Suddenly, Lupin stands and casts a spell that makes the monster go away. 

“Sammy!” Hermione cries, grabbing me from falling. “Are you okay?!” 

_ Can’t speak… too tired…  _

“He’ll be fine. It’s him I’d worry about.” He points at Harry, then comes down to face me. “Remarkable, this one. This girl here is gonna feed you this chocolate.” He pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to Hermione. “It will help.” Then he moves 

I weakly nod and Hermione feeds me the chocolate, slowly strength starts coming back to me. “That was really stupid, Sammy.”

“Isn’t the first time I almost died.” I groan. 

“What… was that thing?” Harry groans.

“It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban. It’s gone now.” 

“It must’ve been searching the train.” I groan, getting up as Hermione grabs Shakespeare and I fall into the seat, Hermione plots the cat back on my lap and I sigh, “Probably for Sirius Black.”

“Anyway, rest up. I’ve got to speak with the driver, see if we can’t get this thing moving again.” He leaves.

“What happened to me?” Harry asks.

“Well, you sort of went... rigid. We thought maybe you were having a fit or something. Then Sam tried to help and the same thing happened.”

He looks at me. “Did you… pass out?”

“No, but I almost did. I feel like shit.”

“What about the rest of you?”

Hermione shakes her head and Ron says, “No. I felt… weird. Like I'd never be cheerful again. But… no.”

“But someone was screaming -- a woman.”

We all look at each other in unease, “No one was screaming, Harry.” Hermione says.


	22. Loss

My name is Tyler Jefferies, me and Buddy were close friends. Buddy gave me his information to all of these accounts a while ago, when we started co-writing this story. I regret to inform you that it won't be completed. Yesterday, Buddy was in an accident, he didn't make it. I feel it's only right that you all know. I am contemplating this in my head right now, we were close, brothers, even. I considered continuing for him, but it didn't feel right. It's still early, but I don't think it's gonna happen. I wish I could tell you in words what he meant to me, but I can't. He was twenty years old, had his entire life ahead of him and now he won't get to live it. Buddy's gone, his dog is with his little brother and I'm left to grieve him. He would've wanted to thank you for reading his stories and enjoying them, so thank you. Rest in peace, brother.


End file.
